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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270257">Simon's Blues</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkyneighbourhoodlesbian/pseuds/funkyneighbourhoodlesbian'>funkyneighbourhoodlesbian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, But she's mentioned a lot, Dev and niall deserve more attention, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Idk why i tagged lucy she's still dead, M/M, Shep becomes besties with dev and niall because why not, Shepard is bi coz i said so, Simon gets a dog coz i said so, So is malcolm kinda, The mage is a bad dad, Trixie and keris are here too, briefly, so im gonna give it to them</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:28:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkyneighbourhoodlesbian/pseuds/funkyneighbourhoodlesbian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist AU (because that show made me cry). Simon gets struck by lightning, and now he hears people singing their inner thoughts to him.</p>
<p>Trigger warnings - Cancer/terminal illness, death caused by terminal illness</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dev &amp; Niall &amp; Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Dev &amp; Simon Snow, Dev/Niall (Simon Snow), Niall &amp; Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce &amp; Agatha Wellbelove, Penelope Bunce &amp; Shepard, Penelope Bunce &amp; Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce &amp; Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penelope Bunce/Micah Cordero, Penelope Bunce/Shepard, Simon Snow &amp; Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch &amp; Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch &amp; Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ex's and Oh's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fanfic sounds sad, but I promise it won't be too bad (maybe). It's just a silly music pun that my friend helped me come up with</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Maybe Penny was right. Perhaps I am just being paranoid.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s just hypochondria, Simon! You’re fine!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I won’t know for sure until I find out, though. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My own words repeat in my head as the taxi pulls up at the hospital. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>better to be safe than to be sorry. I thank the driver and pay him the fare before I get out of his car. He drives away, and I’m left shivering in the carpark as I try and gather the courage to go inside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It started raining about half an hour ago, and the clouds have only got stormier since then. I hear the first rumble of thunder as I step inside, sopping wet. I follow the signs to where I need to be, and check in with a very tired looking receptionist. She tells me to go sit in the waiting room, and that a radiologist will be with me shortly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While I wait, I decide to treat myself to a coffee, practically hearing Penny tutting at me when I stir in eight sachets of sugar. I find coffee too bitter on it’s own, so I have to load it with sugar to make it sweeter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why do you drink coffee if you don’t like it? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Penny would say, if she were here. I had asked her to accompany me, actually, but she said she was busy today. Secretly, I was a tad disappointed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wait is shorter than I expected, and I’m rushing to finish my drink when my name is called. The storm outside has picked up now. Someone briefly talks to me about safety, reviewing the form I was asked to fill out as she does so. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before I know it, I’m being pushed into the MRI machine. It looks like a big doughnut on the outside, but inside it’s small, cramped and uncomfortable. Also, I’ve been given a giant pair of headphones to block out the noise, as the machine is very loud. Though I was told to lay still whilst I’m inside the machine, pretty soon I start to get twitchy. I try hard not to think about it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, while I’m lying there, I think about my mum. Almost five years ago, she was diagnosed with cancer. She had a malignant brain tumour, and died two years after her diagnosis. It has nearly been three years since her death, and I miss her every day. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My dad hasn’t been the same since, and I was glad to finally move out of his house in my second year of university. He tends to have a nasty temper when he’s drunk, and I don’t like hanging around when he is. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Anyway, when I started getting these headaches… I guess I couldn’t help feeling a little paranoid.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I’ve started to cry, and I know it was a mistake letting my thoughts wander there, because I can’t move to wipe them away. I consider calling for assistance, but I don’t want this to take longer than it needs to. So I decide that I’ll have to just put up with the itch in my eyes and the aching in my muscles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I listen to the rhythmic noises of the machine. It doesn’t do much to distract me, but I’m determined to keep my mind blank now, at least until this is done. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This doesn't last long. Even through the thick headphones, the walls of the hospital and over the top of the noises of the machine, I hear a loud crack of thunder. Thunderstorms always make me panicky (in fact, loud noises in general make me jumpy. That comes with having a dad who has a bad temper). This one is no exception. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Anxious thoughts start to fog my brain, and suddenly the small space inside the MRI machine feels even smaller. My hand twitches around the buzzer I was given. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, Simon, stay strong. Just a few more minutes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That's when the power goes out, and I completely lose all remaining sense of calm. I know all about hospitals' backup generators, so in hindsight, I shouldn't have worried. But I'd already worked myself up, and the power outage is what tipped me over the edge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I squeeze the buzzer, and the radiologist comes rushing in. She's very understanding when I explain that I'm having a panic attack, and doesn't force me to go back into the machine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We'll just use what we've got, sugar. Expect your results in the post in a few weeks."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I find my locker, grab my things and leave as quickly as possible. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While I call for another taxi to take my home, I wait under a canopy of leaves. Penny would tell me I'm a fool for standing outside in this weather, but I wasn't comfortable staying inside the hospital. Every minute I spent in there, I thought about my mum. How scared she must have been, how scared </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was in that machine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I only have to wait a few minutes for my taxi. The driver pulls up in a bay, beeping his horn impatiently for me to get in. I step out from underneath the tree I was sheltering under and make a run for it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What happens next is so quick, I almost don't even register it. Lightning strikes, and I swear, I feel it before I see it. White hot and blinding. However, I don't suffer for long, because I lose consciousness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that I'm surrounded by paramedics. The second thing is that I'm still outside, and the storm has started to settle. Third, I feel completely fine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, almost completely fine. My ears are ringing, and I can hardly hear what anyone is saying to me. My clothing smells smoky, so I suspect they may be singed all over. Though, my body doesn't hurt, and when I lift a hand to my face, the skin is still golden and glowing. No sign of burn damage at all. Strange. I put a hand in my hair, and it crackles. Frizzy and full of static, but still there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sir, what is your name?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man's voice finally breaks through my heavy skull, and it startles me slightly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"S-Simon Salisbury," my voice says. It sounds far too distant, and my tongue tingles when I speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you remember what happened, Mr Salisbury?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. I was going out to my taxi, and then- then the lighting-" that's when my head starts to feel like it's splitting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok, Mr Salisbury. We're going to take you inside and get you checked over."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a doctor gives me the check up and declares that I am indeed, miraculously, fine, I discharge myself. They wanted to keep me in longer for observation, but I was tired and just wanted to go home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So, having missed my taxi earlier, I find myself in a local cafe, ordering a ham and cheese toastie before calling Penny. To my annoyance, it goes to voicemail. I try a few more times. Each time, I get Penny's voicemail. I sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I finish my toastie, I'm forced to take the bus home. I really didn't want to have to resort to it, because the walk home from the last stop is long, and my feet already hurt. The bus trundles along. Beside me, another passenger is staring morosely out of the window. I don't intend to do anything, but I do find myself wondering what is wrong with them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then I hear the music.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's soft and echoing. I recognise the first few notes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Somebody To Love. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I don't think much of it; plenty of people have headphones on. But a voice that is very distinctly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freddie Mercury starts singing, and I frown.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Each morning I get up, I die a little / Can barely stand on my feet."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The music is loud, like it's playing inside my head, but that isn't my voice singing, either. I look around. All the passengers around me have stoic expressions on their faces. No one is singing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Take a look at yourself in the mirror and cry / Lord, what you're doing to me."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Excuse me, but could you please stop singing? Not to be rude, but I have a headache," I say to the person next to me, assuming it's them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They turn to face me and frown.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not singing," they say, and turn back to face the window. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I almost argue, but then shrug it off. I must be imagining things.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I have spent all my years in believing you / But I just can't get no relief, Lord!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You are singing!" I snap. I saw their mouth moving that time. "Somebody To Love by Queen, I saw you!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The stranger looks annoyed now. "I don't even like Queen. Mate, you're crazy." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next stop is mine, and apparently, it's the stranger's as well. I try to shake off what happened on the bus, but I can still hear them singing as they take off in the opposite direction, </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Can anybody find me somebody to love?" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe they were just embarrassed. Though, they weren't singing very quietly, so why get pissed at me for calling them out on it? If they didn't want to be heard singing, then don't sing loudly in public.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now in a bad mood, I stomp my way down the crowded street, people swerving to avoid my temper. I pass by a pub, and when I do, a group of women stumble out. It's obvious that they're on a hen party, and are intoxicated in the middle of the day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I hear music again, and try not to audibly groan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I come home in the morning light / My mother says, 'when you gonna live your life right?' / Oh mother dear, we're not the fortunate ones / And girls, they wanna have fun," </span>
  </em>
  <span>the women sing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh no, not again," I grumble under my breath. I stop a man passing me, and he clearly looks surprised by the interruption to his day. "Sir, you can hear them singing, right?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"When the working day is done / Oh girls, they wanna have fun!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man looks at me like I've lost the plot and walks away. My hand finds its way into my hair, and like I always do when I'm stressed or frustrated, I tug on my curls.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alright, Simon, calm down. There must be an explanation for this. What have I done today? Well, I had breakfast, rode in a taxi, had an extremely sugary coffee, had an MRI and I… was struck by lightning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The lightning. Perhaps I didn't come away as unharmed as I thought I did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I need to tell someone. My first instinct is to call Penny, but she isn't answering her phone. Who else can I talk to?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha. She lives nearby. Why was my first thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Agatha? She's my girlfriend, she'll listen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I probably should have called first. Instead, I show up, unannounced, on her doorstep. She looks pissed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Agatha-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon, what are you doing here?" It's not mean, but she doesn't sound happy to see me. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I just- I've just got back from the hospital, I was nearby, I thought-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Come in, Simon," she says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha steps back, allowing me to pass through the door into the house. Her house is smaller than her family home, but it's still just as posh. I don't think she'd settle for anything less. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I take off my coat and lay it across the back of the sofa. Agatha scrunches up her nose, but doesn't say anything. I sit down, and it's such a relief to my aching body. "It's so good to see you, Ags. It's been such a weird day, I-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Cup of tea, Simon? A scone?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I frown. Why does she keep interrupting me? "Uh, yes, please."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods curtly before hurrying off into the kitchen. I'm left feeling stunned and a little bit hurt. My day has been shit enough, and now Agatha is being distant with me? Is some higher power punishing me for something terrible I did in a past life? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Agatha comes back with a steaming cup of tea and a scone, she looks tense. There's an awkward, though admittedly short, silence while I eat my scone. She watches me the whole time. Then, we both try to speak at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Something weird happened today-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon, I think we should break up." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That catches me off guard. I know that my mouth is hanging open, and that I must look like a right idiot, but I don't care. Maybe I misheard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha leans over and takes one of my hands in both of her's. "I promise, it's not you. It's me. You're a wonderful boyfriend, but I'm just not feeling it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But, Aggie…" my voice cracks. "We're soulmates. We love each other."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha shakes her head. "No, Simon. I don't think what we had </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>love. It was just what was convenient for both of us. We became comfortable with each other, but… Simon, I don't think I'm in love with you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't know how I'm meant to argue with that, but I'm damn well going to try anyway. "Agatha, please, just think about this."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I already have, Simon. I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But we're meant to be together! For life! We were going to get a place in the countryside, get married, have beautiful kids, and then-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"See, that's the problem," she snaps, and I fall silent. "You had our whole lives together planned out, and that's just too much for me, Simon! I don't even know what my plans for next year are, let alone ten years time. We don't match. You want to settle down, and I want to spread my wings."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, if that's what you want, then maybe we can compromise. This doesn't have to be the end." I won't let it be the end. Agatha is my girl. She can't just leave me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head. "Yes, it is."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We're over, Simon Salisbury."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My eyes burn with tears. I open my mouth to argue some more, but then Agatha starts to sing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Well, I had me a boy, turned him into a man / Showed him all the things that he didn't understand, woah / And then I let him go."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't need to over analyse this. She's singing about me. I don't think she knows that she's doing it (the passenger on the bus didn't) but I think she means it. Agatha is singing from the heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"One, two, three, they're gonna run back to me / They always wanna come, but they never want to leave." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I stare down at my untouched cup of tea. Agatha is right. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don't </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to leave, but she clearly doesn't want me here anymore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"They won't let go, ex's and oh's." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She's finished, and now she's just staring at me. The song is right, I really don't want to let Agatha go. I want to stay and fix this. Make it right. Me and Agatha belong with one another. But she doesn't believe that, so I know that the right thing to do now is to walk away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right," I choke. "I guess that's it then."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I leave before she can even say goodbye. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What a day. This morning, I was in an MRI machine. Then, I got struck by lightning. On the way home, I hear people singing, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>only I </span>
  </em>
  <span>can hear them, so maybe I'm going mad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And now I'm single. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What a fucking day.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Call Me Maybe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Agatha asks Baz on a date, and Simon is salty about it</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>By writing this fic I have realised how narrow/awful my taste in music is</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I’ll admit, when I get to work, I’m in a horrid mood. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright, Si?” Ebb, my manager asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I just huff in response. She shrugs her shoulders and let’s me get on with it. Good woman. My family has known Ebb for years, so she knows when not to push me for answers I clearly do not want to give.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Basilton Pitch, on the other hand, knows no such boundaries.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You look like shit, Snow,” he sneers at me as I pass him in the aisle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Piss off, Baz.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, really, it’s a compliment. Definitely an upgrade from the ‘roadkill’ look you usually have going on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I turn on him. “Do you take pleasure in winding me up?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mostly, yes,” he replies, cool as ice. “That, and you’re ridiculously easy to wind up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wouldn’t be the first time Baz and I fought in the store if I were to throw a punch at him right now, but his aunt Fiona, the owner, has just shown up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Boys. I’m hungover and do not have the energy for your bullshit. Save it for another day, would you?” She doesn’t wait for a reply before staggering away from us. Ebb greets her at the end of the aisle with a coffee, which she accepts with a slurred, “thanks, Ebb.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona hates this place, and in fairness, she looks like the last person you would find in a book shop. Her sister, Natasha, was the one who opened it. It was her pride and joy (well, until Baz came along). When she died, she left the shop to Fiona. Which is surprising, to say the least. I think both she and Baz had hoped she’d leave it to him. I’m sure if he asked nicely… actually, no, he wouldn’t even need to ask. Baz just has to say the word, and I’m sure Fiona would sign the place away in a heartbeat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz is intelligent, though I’d never say that to his face. I swear that he’s addicted to books. I’ve overheard him telling Ebb, who he unexpectedly gets along with quite well, stories of when he was a child. He practically grew up in this building, so it’s no wonder he has such a big brain, I guess. I can imagine a baby Baz, toddling his way through the shop, pulling books down off their shelves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>Right now, he’s</span> <span>putting books </span><em><span>on </span></em><span>the shelves. There’s something hypnotic about it, and I can’t help but watch for a moment. Books look good in his slender hands. After university, I was out of a job, and it was Ebb that suggested I try for a job here. Of course, she neglected to mention that Baz also worked here.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s where we met, actually. University. Me and Baz. We were roommates (hallmates?). We instantly disliked each other, and honestly, he was a nightmare to live with. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I’ve been staring too long. He’s glowering at me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Take a picture, Snow. It’ll last longer.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He calls me Snow, my middle name. It became a joke while I was at university, because of Game of Thrones. People would often reference that stupid quote at me (</span>
  <em>
    <span>“You know nothing, Simon Snow”</span>
  </em>
  <span>). It happened so often that I guess Baz thought it was my last name, but I presumed when he found out it was actually Salisbury, he’d stop. He hasn’t.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We continue to stack shelves in silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz finishes his pile, and in the corner of my eye, I see him slide up to me with a sly grin on his face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What does this tosser want? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, I heard that Wellbelove dumped you,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I turn my head so fast I swear I get whiplash. “Who told you that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He actually laughs. In my face. God, he’s insufferable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A little bird,” Baz replies with a wicked grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay the fuck away from her, arsehole,” I growl.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t respond; he just walks away with a smug look I’d like to punch off his face. The prat has been after Agatha since we first got together. Side glances, lingering looks. He wasn’t even subtle about it. I don’t doubt that now she’s on the market he’ll be after her. Not if I get her back, first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>no.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite me warning him earlier, Baz has most certainly not stayed away from Agatha.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them are sitting in the corner, all cozy, talking over their coffees. Agatha has her usual iced latte, but I’m a little bit shocked to see Baz also has one. Though, I suppose it is warm outside. It’s June, after all. Despite the weather, I order myself a hot chocolate and storm over to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Baz! Didn’t I tell you to leave her alone?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He raises an eyebrow at me calmly, while Agatha scowls and rolls her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Simon. I’m a grown woman, and we,” she indicates between the two of us, “are broken up. I’m allowed to see whoever I want to see, and I don’t need your permission or approval to do so.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But, he’s Baz! How could you agree to go on a date with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Baz?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, she asked me,” Baz chimes in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My mouth drops open involuntarily as I look between the two of them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Agatha </span>
  </em>
  <span>asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>Baz </span>
  </em>
  <span>on a date? I knew Baz liked her, but I had know idea she liked him back! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that why you broke up with me?" I ask her. The question was meant to stay in my head, but it just slipped out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha goes quiet, and I can tell I've made her uncomfortable. I want to apologise immediately, but Baz steps in and cuts me off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why don't you go and find your own table to drink your coffee, Snow?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Actually, it's hot chocolate." Christ, I sound pathetic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz just sneers, and I can tell that they're done talking to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I do as Baz told me and find a table alone to drink my hot chocolate. It's intended to take it out with me, but instead here I am, spying on Baz and Agatha.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They aren't really doing anything, to be honest. Just chatting. Occasionally I see Agatha lean in, flirtatious smile on her face, or putting her hand on his arm. It makes my blood boil. Especially since Baz seems to be quite uninterested. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I was getting geared up to go over there again and give Baz a piece of my mind, but then... music.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not one single person, all afternoon, had sung to me. I was starting to think that maybe, whatever the lightning did, was wearing off. Apparently not.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I threw a wish in the well / Don't ask me, I'll never tell." </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oh god, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>song. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"I looked at you as it fell / And now you're in my way." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I look up, I find that Agatha is the one singing. For one single second, I allow myself to think that she's singing to me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except she's not. Her eyes have not left Baz. She's singing to him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>about </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, not me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's hard to look right at you, baby / But here's my number, so call me maybe." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha's blushing. Actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I never saw her blush when she was with me. Baz still doesn't seem to care, but then I remember, I'm the only one who can hear her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And all the other boys try to chase me / But here's my number, so call me maybe."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Excuse me for one moment, Agatha. I just need to use the facilities," says Baz, cutting Agatha's song short. I don't know if I'm relieved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, ok," Agatha says. She looks slightly taken aback, but no less keen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't trust Baz. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I wait a few minutes, and then, when I know Agatha isn't looking, I get up and follow him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door to the toilets is opening just as I get there, and I flinch, thinking it's Baz coming back out. I'm relieved to see that it's not, and use the opportunity to slip inside unnoticed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's a small room, with two stalls and a wall of urinals. The first thing I notice is that one of the stalls is occupied. Baz must be in there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As quietly as possible, I sneak up to the stall and press my ear to the door. For one horrible moment, I acknowledge that he could actually be using the toilet, but then I hear his hushed voice. I presume he's on the phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'm still with Wellbelove." There's a short pause in which I press myself up closer to the door. "No, of course I'm not actually into her, Dev. I'm not stealing her from you. Not like you have a shot anyway."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs, and it's a sound I've never heard before. Normally, when he laughs at </span>
  <em>
    <span>me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it's cold and harsh. This one was… actually nice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then I register what he just said. I step back too quickly, and my shoe squeaks on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz is silent. Then he says quietly, "I've got to go. See you later." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The stall opens, and he sees me standing there, seething.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He frowns. "Snow. How long have you been standing there?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm about to start shouting at him, telling him I heard everything. Then it occurs to me how strange it was of me to follow him into the toilets, and that I'd be admitting to eavesdropping. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I, um." Crap. "I just got here."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can tell he doesn't believe me, but he doesn't say as much. Instead, he says, "Whatever, Snow."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He leaves, and I'm left alone feeling like a numpty.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I need to go home and Penny everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I haven't seen Penny since before I went to the hospital. When I got back, she'd simply left me a note that read, </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Gone to Micah's. See you when I get back - Penny', </span>
  </em>
  <span>signed with a little smiley face. She must have stayed the night, because she wasn't in the flat when I woke up this morning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Micah came to visit her in England for a few weeks, and has been renting a bungalow not too far away. Since he arrived, I've barely seen her. There's no way to know she'll be home when I get there, but I have to hope. She's still not answering her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I arrive at the flat, and I find the door unlocked. Penny </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>home, then.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Pen! I've got something to- oh, hey Shepard."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Our tall, dark and handsome American friend seems to have made himself quite at home on our sofa, with a coffee in his hands. He swings his legs onto the floor and bounds towards me like a puppy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon! It's good to see you, buddy!" Shepard exclaims, pulling me into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I do live here," I gasp as he crushes my ribs. "It's nice to see you, too."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He let's go of me and smiles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny emerges from the bathroom with a smirk. "Welcome home, Simon." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I smile weakly and join them both in the living room. In his excitement, Shep must have spilled his drink, because I step in a puddle of coffee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, sorry dude! I'll clean that up!" This time, he sets his mug down before running off to grab the kitchen roll.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny sits down next to me on the sofa after pulling the biscuit tin into her lap. I take one, and she bats my hand away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Get your own biscuits, thief!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I bought the custard creams!" I laugh. "You didn't tell me that Shepard was coming over."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He surprised me," Penny says with a shrug. I'm glad to see that my awkwardness is rubbing off on her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not that I'm complaining, but why </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>he here?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard comes back with the whole roll of paper (could he not just rip a sheet off?) and replies before Penny can say anything, "sorry, I won't be here for much longer. I'll drink my coffee and go."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He was here to talk about the storms we've been having," says Penny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That, and I was missing my bud," Shep jokes, winking at her. She rolls her eyes. "Did you see the rainbow lighting, Simon?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The… what?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"When we had that storm the other day, there was a rare sighting of rainbow lightning. It doesn't happen often that both lightning and rainbows are seen at the same time, but it happened!" Shepard explains to me excitedly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't start him off again, Si," Penny groans.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm about to ask why Shep cares so much, but then I remember; he studied meteorology. This kind of stuff is like Christmas to him. Maybe he might know…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Shep, if someone were to be struck by lightning, what would happen?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His entire face lights up at the chance to get to talk some more about the weather. Penny groans again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, most people pass out directly after being struck, and the electrical charges short circuit the smaller electrical signals in the body. So, your heart, lungs and nervous system get fried, basically. That's why often, the side effects of getting struck are cardiac arrest, brain damage, memory loss, et cetera. Also, severe burns."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My mouth goes dry. "Brain damage?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yep," he says, taking a sip of coffee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I must look as unwell as I feel, because Penny asks, "are you ok, Simon?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh, yeah. Fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard leaves shortly after, and I volunteer to make another round of teas. I bring them back into the living room and hand Penny her's (no milk, the absolute heathen) before I settle down with mine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, what did you want to tell me?" Penny asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"When you came in, you said you 'had something to', and then never finished your sentence. I assumed you had something to tell me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh. Yeah. That."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sit there and explain to her everything that happened at the hospital. She humours me with well timed gasps and sympathetic looks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And since then, I've been hearing people singing to me," I finish.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She chokes on her tea. "Wait, what? What do you mean?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, on the bus home, the stranger I sat next to was singing Queen, and when I asked them to stop, they said they weren't and called me crazy. Then, after Agatha finished with me-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Agatha finished with you?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"See, this is what happens when you aren't home for a while," I say with a roll of my eyes. "Yes, she ended things."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. She should have ended things sooner, if you ask me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penny!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry, Si, but you guys just weren't good together."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sit there and pout for a while. Penny needs to know that she's upset me. Unfortunately, Penny knows me too well, and the wounded puppy act doesn't work on her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Come on, Simon. Finish what you were saying. I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I frown at her, but continue anyway. "Agatha sang to me when we broke up, and again today at Costa."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You went to Costa without me?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Pen-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right, sorry. Not the point. What did she sing?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, she was with Baz, and she was singing Call Me Maybe." The memory makes my skin crawl.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny sits in contemplative silence. I use it as an opportunity to drink my tea, which has gone cold while I was talking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok," she says eventually. "Let's unpack this bit by bit. First of all, let's talk about the lightning strike."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shep said it can cause brain damage. Do you think that's what happened?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe not </span>
  <em>
    <span>damage, </span>
  </em>
  <span>exactly, but he did say that the nervous system has electrical signals. That's the brain, so maybe you've been, like, super charged?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh. "You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not a clue. But it seems logical that the lightning strike gave you some sort of super power." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Does it?" I chuckle again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know what I mean, Simon. It's most likely that whatever is going on with you was caused by the lightning. You're certain that you are the only one who hears it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm like, 99% sure," I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Then, maybe you're meant to be like some sort of neighbourhood hero," she says. I'd laugh again, except she's completely serious.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do I look like Spiderman?" I joke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not like that. I think you should use this new ability to help people."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So you think I should help Agatha get with Baz, even though I know for a fact that he doesn't even like her?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, no. But other people. If you hear someone singing, and they sound like they need help, then you should help them."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Have you met me, Penny? I'm not exactly Mother Theresa," I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Then, I'll help you help them," she says, and I see this fierce look in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You sure?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course! That's what best friends are for, right?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I think that's the end of the conversation, but then I hear the first few notes of a song playing in my ears. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Penny's about to sing to me, this'll be fun, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea / I'll sail the world to find you."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can't help it. I start howling with laughter. For one moment, I vaguely wonder if Penny can hear me laughing. Then I decide I don't care. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"You can count on me like one, two, three / I'll be there."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I snort. It's the ugliest noise I've ever made in my life, but I just can't stop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And I know when I need it I can count on you like four, three, two / You'll be there. 'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do, oh yeah."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She seems to have stopped, and I'm left clutching a stitch in my side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, Pen," I say, wiping a tear from my eye.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" Then realisation dawns on her face. "Oh no. I just sang to you, didn't I?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I feel another chuckle bubbling up inside me, until Penny gets this look of determination in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, then. I think it's only fair that I get to pick tonight's movie, as payment. I'm not a performing monkey, Simon," she says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What? But you picked last night!" I go to grab the TV remote, but she's quicker. "Penelope!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We end up watching the Bee Movie for the fourth night in a row.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I never payed attention in science, so all the information about lightning in this chapter I got from google</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen<br/>- Count On Me by Bruno Mars</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I'm Still Standing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon is traumatised after listening to Fiona sing Katy Perry and Elton John songs</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been picking songs after writing the chapters, and weird chapters like this are the result. I'm sorry. Also, Ebb and Fiona are besties, get used to it.</p>
<p>Tw - mentions of alcohol abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day, I almost forget about Baz and Agatha. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Until she shows up at our workplace to bring him a packed lunch. She never did that for me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I thought that we could go for a little walk and find a spot to eat together while you're on break," I hear Agatha say cheerfully. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They're on the other side of the shelf I'm stocking, and I find myself eavesdropping again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry, not today Agatha," Baz says. "Fiona is in a bit of a mood, so I'm going to have lunch with her and try to put a smile on that sour face of her's."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz being nice actually makes me feel queasy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds like an excuse to me, but whatever. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Another day, then?" Agatha asks hopefully. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha leaves the shop with a skip in her step. I finish shelving my pile of books before I round the corner and march up to Baz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Explain yourself," I hiss. He looks at me like he doesn't know what I mean. I growl. "You and Agatha. I know- oh, shit."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I get cut off by the muffled sound of singing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's too early in the morning for this, leave me alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz frowns at me. "What's wrong with you, Snow? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"None of your business," I say, pushing past him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I decide to go and investigate, even though it's the last thing I want to do right now. Penny told me to try and use these powers for good, so I might as well make the effort.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Almost immediately, I regret this decision. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona is outside having a cigarette and singing Katy Perry. Christ on a bike. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Katy fucking Perry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I'm going to need therapy after this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"'Cause you're hot then you're cold / You're yes then you're no / You're in then you're out / You're up then you're down."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't even know how to approach this. All I can do is pray that she stops soon. After that, who knows? The best case scenario is that the Men In Black come and erase my memory with their neuralyzers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The worst case scenario is that I actually have to ask Baz's nightmare aunt if she's alright. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"We fight, we break up / We kiss, we make up."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, that's just great. This has to be about Nicodemus, another person I'm absolutely terrified of. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"You don't really want to stay, no / You don't really want to go, oh."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She finishes the song, and never in my whole life have I ever been more relieved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I go back into the shop and make my way into the kids' section. No one ever comes back here, so it's quiet enough for me to make a phone call.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few rings, Penny answers. "Hello?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penny! You know how you said you'd help me help people? Is it too late to back out of that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why? What's going on, Simon?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I just heard Fiona singing Hot N Cold," I say, shuddering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There's rustling at the other end of the receiver before Penny replies, "Fiona Pitch sang Katy Perry?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, and I'm scarred for life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Have you talked to her yet?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I almost laugh at that. "Of course I haven't! What do you suggest I even do in this situation? 'Hi, Fiona. I know you don't like me, but I heard you singing a cheesy pop song while you were smoking, and I wondered if you wanted to talk about it?' I'd be lucky to leave with my life!" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You said you'd help anyone in need, Simon," says Penny in her stern voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know, but Baz-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What about Baz? Has he sung to you, too?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, no, thank god, but I was eavesdropping-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny sighs loudly. "You really need to stop doing that. When was this?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This morning, when Agatha came into the shop, and yesterday, I followed him into the toilets-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You followed him into the toilets?! Simon, that's so creepy!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't trust him! He doesn't even like Agatha, he's just leading her on!" I try to reason with her desperately.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I realise I've been raising my voice, and I look around quickly to make sure no one heard. Luckily, it's still just me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, you can either go and help Fiona, or you can admit to Baz that you stalked him in the loos. Your choice." Then she hangs up with no goodbye.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I pocket my phone and run my hands through my hair in frustration. As much as I want to chew Baz out about the way he’s treating Agatha, Penny’s right. I can’t confront him without admitting that I listened in on his conversation. It’d be suicide.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yet, so would talking to Fiona. At least Baz has some restraint while we’re at work. Fiona will have my head on a pike in front of the door outside if I try to make her open up to me. I’d very much like to live to see another birthday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I’m going to die.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I’ve lived a good life, and now Fiona Pitch is going to kill me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No matter how much I told myself it was the lesser of two evils, I just couldn’t risk Baz finding out that I was creeping on him in the toilets. So that’s how I end up waiting for Fiona to come back into the shop and presumably, once I ask her how she’s doing, have my guts for garters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sees me standing there gormlessly when she comes back into the shop and narrows her eyes at me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fiona-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I sure do hope this is you working, Salisbury, because I would hate to have caught you slacking off," she says sarcastically. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I just wanted to ask if you're ok," I spit out. Might as well rip the plaster off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona's face flashes through several different expressions of confusion and disgust. Her mouth opens and closes like she doesn't know how to respond. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you hit your head?" Is what she finally goes with.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, but Baz said that you were in a bad mood, and I wanted to check on you," I say, cringing at my own words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona raises her eyebrow. "Since when were you chummy with my nephew?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not. Forget I said anything about Baz."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Believe me, I don't want to get involved in any of that. Not even a knife could cut through all of that sexual tension," says Fiona.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I feel my face flush. "There is no sexual tension between me and Baz!" I say, a little too loudly. A couple of customers look at me curiously. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Whatever kid. I'm not getting involved in your love life, so respectfully stay out of mine."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring the comment about Baz, I take this as an opening. "I never said anything about your love life." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona sighs. "If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine, then. But not until after your shift. Get back to work," she barks at me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I shrug. "Works for me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time my shift ends, my interaction with Fiona has slipped my mind. When she calls me over, I think it's because I've done something wrong.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Outside," she says, stepping around me. I follow her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once outside, she pulls me into the alley by the side of the shop. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So, this is where I die, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think. I wait for her to speak, but she seems to be taking an awfully long time to light her cigarette.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, are you-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, I’m talking,” she snaps.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am,” I respond, timidly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona takes a deep drag and blows the smoke out all over me. I choke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that it’s any of your business, Salisbury, but Nico and I have been having some disagreements.” She half laughs, half scoffs before taking another drag. “I think he drinks too much. Passed out during the day, out getting shitfaced with his mates by night. Like some sort of alcoholic vampire. And while he’s prowling the streets of London punishing his liver, I’m sitting alone in the flat wondering if tonight’s the night he takes it too far and doesn’t come home.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a pained expression on her face that shocks me. I’m used to Fiona being sarcastic and bitter, but this is something different. She’s hurting, and I’d be a little freaked out if I wasn’t so taken aback.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, that’s… horrible,” I say, thinking about my own father.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, that’s not even the worst of it,” she continues. “He’s racking up criminal offences like it’s bingo, and somehow he never gets caught. Then he comes back to me and brags about what a lowlife he is before crashing in our bed smelling so foul I’m forced to sleep on the sofa. When I bring it up, he says I’m overreacting. We fight, and then we make up. Rinse and repeat.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fight and make up, like the song,” I joke before realising my mistake.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona frowns at me. “What song?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing. Why do you put up with it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because he says he loves me, and despite everything, I love him, too.” It sounds like it hurts to say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But surely love shouldn’t be this much hard work?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona blows smoke at me again. “I didn’t know you were a love expert, kid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not,” I say, shrugging. “And could you please put that out?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sneers at me, the very same one I’ve received from Baz on many occasions, but she drops the cigarette and stomps on it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Better, princess?” Fiona asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Much, thanks,” I reply, ignoring the sarcasm. “Why don’t you talk to Ebb about any of this?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That question has been on my mind since I heard Fiona singing earlier, if I’m being honest. She’s dating her best friend’s brother, so it would make sense for them to talk about stuff like this, right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently not, because Fiona snorts. “Ebeneza Petty is my best friend, Simon,” (she uses my first name more than Baz does, but it still takes me by surprise each time), “even if she has gone a bit soft since we were young. You know Ebb, she likes to see the good in everyone, and she thinks the world of her brother. I can’t tell her what he’s really like, it would break her heart.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you’ve never spoken about any of this to anyone?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope. You’re the first, kid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s quiet between us as I think of something to say. I hadn’t expected Fiona to actually pour her feelings out to me, and now I don’t know what to do. The silence drags on, and it starts to become uncomfortable. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fiona, I know you don’t like me-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Understatement of the year, but go on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there was no need for that,” I say. “But all I was going to ask was, are you happy? From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you’re not. I know you don’t need me to tell you how you feel, and you can tell me to do one after this, if you must. Just, think about whether this is truly worth you making an effort for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the next few days, I hear nothing from Fiona. A couple of people sing to me (tedious stuff that took no time to help out with), but I find myself really wanting to know if she has dealt with Nicodemus. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's one afternoon that I notice Ebb is really quiet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ebb, what's going on? You've not been as chatty as you usually are," I ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, it's nothing for you to be concerned about, Simon," she replies, wiping her watery eyes on the back of her sleeves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you sure? I recently discovered that I'm a very good listener if you wanted to talk about it," I say with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles back, taking my hands and giving them a little squeeze. Then she let's go and sighs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My Nicky and Fi broke up. For good, this time, I think," she says, getting teary again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To my surprise, a small sense of pride builds in my chest before diminishing. Ebb is upset, now is not the time to dwell on a job well done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"From what Fi has told me, Nicky hasn't exactly been a model citizen since they got together. She gave him an ultimatum: her, or his friends. He chose them." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ouch. "That's terrible, Ebb. Is that why you're upset? You found out that Nicodemus is…" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can't finish the sentence. Ebb is sensitive enough as it is, without me fanning the flames.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, no. I always knew Nicky was a wrong'un, but I believed that he could change. But then I let him hurt my best friend, and I feel like I've let her down," Ebb sobs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I put my arm around her. "You haven't let her down Ebb. Don't blame yourself. Fiona is a grown woman, she can make her own decisions. There's no use in torturing yourself over this."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From across the store, I hear music beginning to swell. Even from a distance, I can tell that it's Fiona.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And did you think this fool could never win? / Well, look at me, I'm coming back again." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't know what's more traumatising: hearing Fiona sing Katy Perry, or hearing it sing Elton John. At least she sounds happy this time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And if you need to know while I'm still standing, you just fade away."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I see her dancing towards us between the bookshelves, and I let out a little chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did / Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fiona taps the beat out on every surface she passes, and even though I know I'm the only one seeing and hearing this, she seems to be enjoying herself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'm still standing after all this time / Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind / I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah / I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She comes to stop in front of a display a few feet away from us as her singing comes to an end. I can just about see a faint smile on her face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm? Yeah, Ebb?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think Fi will be ok?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I look between the two women.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fiona is going to be fine."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was originally going to be between Ebb and Nicodemus, but then I thought Simon would find it too easy to help Ebb, and I wanted to give him a challenge.</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- Hot N Cold by Katy Perry<br/>- I'm Still Standing by Elton John</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. How Long</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon finds out that Micah is a cheat</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is shorter than the previous ones, and there's two reasons for that: one, there's only one song, and two, I had more ideas for this chapter that have just left my head,  so... If they come back, maybe I'll include them in a later chapter.</p>
<p>I'm not sure what, if any, trigger warnings apply to this chapter, but as always, the Mage is an ass and there's very minor hints of abuse/Davy just being generally dodgy. I don't plan on going into much more detail than that. Also, like the summary suggests, Micah is a cheating scumbag.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It's Sunday, which means no work for me today, and that also means I get to sleep in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Between work and visiting Micah recently, I've gotten used to Penny not being in the flat when I wake up, or get home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when I do finally get up, I'm startled to find that I'm not alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except it's not Penny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's my dad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon, my boy! You sleep in late," he jokes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you doing here?" In an instant, I'm getting defensive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What? Can't a father come and say hello to his son?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>can't. I'm only your son when you need something," I growl. "How did you even get in?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Your flatmate let me in," he replies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penelope let you in, even though I specifically asked her not to?" I fold my arms and level my gaze at him. "What's the truth?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That is the truth!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not. Fine, if you won't tell me, I'll guess. You found the spare key?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's silent for a moment. "In fairness, Si, leaving it under the welcome mat is pretty obvious."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I mentally make a note to myself to move it later. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can't I-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, you can't. The truth, Dad, why are you here?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs at me, exasperated. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He's </span>
  </em>
  <span>exasperated? How does he think I feel?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Your old man just needs a favour, that's all."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No. I'm not doing any more 'favours' for you. I'm sick of being your son only when it's convenient for you," I snarl. "This is exactly what I was talking about! I barely see you all year, but when you're in a tight spot, you seem to suddenly remember that I exist."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's no way to talk to your father," he scolds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why not? It's usually always this time of year, too, suspiciously close to the anniversary of Mum's death."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I watch my dad's face go pale. It's a sensitive topic, it always has been, but where I try not to dwell on the past, my father seems to be stuck in it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't mention your mother in front of me," he says, his voice low and threatening. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I let out a cold laugh. "Oh, get a grip, Dad! She's been dead for nearly three years! I get it, it hurts like a bitch, but you aren't the only one who lost her!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Raise your voice at me again boy, and I'll-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll what? Hurt me in my own home? Mum would be so disappointed if she could see you now," I choke. My chest is getting tight, but I refuse to cry in front of this man.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Take that back."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I won't! I'm not your mule, or your puppet. I'm your son, and if you aren't ready to treat me as such, then I'm not ready to have you in my life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dad stands up, and I flinch, thinking he's about to advance on me. He doesn't, he just looks tired.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right. Well, if that's how you feel," he says, dejected. "I'll see myself out."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Please do."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once he's gone, I find my phone and text Penny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>hey Pen, my dad let himself into the flat</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the time it takes her to respond, I've had my breakfast and brushed my teeth. Typical.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Oh god. U ok? x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>i've been better</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>u at Micah's?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Yeah x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>let him know i'm coming over</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The atmosphere in Micah's rented bungalow is off. I can't put my finger on what it is, but I can just feel that something isn't right.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can I offer you a beverage, Simon?" Micah asks when I settle down on the sofa.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If you wouldn't mind, mate. Extra sugar, I'm feeling a bit shaky," I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stands up, and so does Penny. They share a tense look. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll make it," says Penny, and she hurries off into the next room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Micah sits back down with an expression I can't read.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You alright, Micah?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. How are you? Penny told me you went to the hospital recently."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I did. I'm still waiting for my results," I tell him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm still feeling uncomfortable, and I can tell that Micah is on the same page. We've always got along, me and him, but right now we're struggling to even make small talk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So… you still working at that bookshop?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I am. How long are you staying here in England?" I try to say it casually, but somehow it comes off as slightly accusatory. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just a few more weeks. Don't worry, you'll have your roommate back soon," he assures.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny comes back with a tea for me and herself, places them on the coasters on the mantelpiece, then goes back for Micah's coffee. When she sits down next to me, it's an effort not to sigh in relief. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What happened, Simon?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, when I woke up, Dad was in the flat. I asked him how he got in, he said you let him in," I start to explain, but Penny cuts me off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I did not! You didn't believe him, did you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course not! I pestered him for the truth, and he admitted that he found the spare key and let himself in."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why? What did he want?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What he always wants. A 'favour'. I told him no, and I said that I won't be his son only when it suits him any more. Then I kicked him out and came here," I say, and I start to shake. From anger or grief, I don't know.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I could have dealt with it, and then you wouldn't have had to wake up to that. I'm really sorry," Penny says as she pulls me into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Micah looks at us, and then looks away. He isn't jealous, is he? As far as I'm aware, he's never been jealous of me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It isn't your fault, Penny, how were you to know?" I reassure her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Still.."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry, but could you just remind me what the deal is with that guy?" Micah asks. "I know you've told me, but my memory is a little fuzzy."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny glares at him like he's something nasty on the bottom of her shoe. What's going on? "That's Simon's business."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's ok, Pen, you can tell him," I say, slightly shocked at her cold behaviour. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looks at me. "Are you sure?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," I say, like it's obvious. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope reluctantly explains. I sip on my tea and try to tune it out. Thankfully, she gives the short version, and it's over quickly, though it's never nice to be reminded of certain memories I have of my father.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My chest starts to feel tight again, and I'm either about to cry or have a panic attack. I make an excuse to go to the toilet, and once I've locked the door, I throw open all the windows. Fresh air filters in, and I focus on the peaceful birdsong as I breathe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't really keep track of how long I'm in there, but at some point, Micah comes and knocks on the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You doing ok in there, buddy?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine. Just, uh, stomach ache," I lie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I assume Micah buys it, because I hear his feet on the hardwood floor as he walks away. It takes a few moments for me to pull myself together, and another few to actually leave the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I step out, I check that it's clear, just so I know whether I'll have a bit more time to compose myself. But when I get halfway down the hall, I notice the kitchen door is ajar, and inside I can hear Micah whispering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At first, I paid it no mind, but then I hear him say, "I love you too, bye."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My brain can't quite process it. I poke my head around the living room door and see Penny sat in there, alone. She doesn't notice me, so I sneak closer to the kitchen door. Sure enough, I begin to hear music. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'll admit, I was wrong, what else can I say, girl?" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I already don't like this. Micah approaches the door, so I hide in the coat cupboard in the hallway. Through the crack in the door, I see him standing in the living room doorway, singing to Penny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I was drunk, I was gone, that don't make it right but I promise there were no feelings involved." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's cheating on her. Or cheated, at least. I feel sick. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"She said, 'Boy, tell me honestly / Was it real or just for show?'"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wait, "she"? Does Penny know about this? Why hasn't she broken up with him?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"She said, 'Save your apologies / Baby, I just gotta know / How long has this been going on? You been creepin' round on me / While you're calling 'baby'."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There's definitely another woman, then. I really wish I didn't have this ability right now. This is torture. Which god did I upset to deserve such a shitty day?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'll admit, it's my fault." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's taking all my self restraint to stay hidden in this cupboard, because there's nothing I'd like to do more right now than rip his throat out. No one hurts my best friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I try and I try, but you'll never see that / You're the only one I wanna love."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I resort to putting my hands over my ears until he stops singing. When he does, I wait an extra few minutes to calm down before I get out of the coat cupboard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't know what to do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Do I tell Penelope? Does she already know? It's such a delicate subject, and I have no idea how to go about bringing this up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What a nightmare. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How do you tell your best friend that her boyfriend has cheated? I don't want to break her heart, but I can't let her keep seeing him. She deserves better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's quiet in the living room now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After I finish my cup of tea, Micah offers me another one, which I decline.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think I'm going to head back to the flat and have a relaxing bath. You coming, Pen?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny looks hesitant about something. "Um, no. I'll see you later though, yeah? We can have takeout tonight, if you want." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh. Yeah, ok then," I say. "See ya."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"See you later, Simon."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The walk home seems to take longer than it took to get there. I can't stop worrying about Penny. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I told her that I'd help the people who sing to me, I never imagined I'd be in a situation like this. Not with a stranger, and definitely not with the girl I've been friends with since I was 11.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can't be the one to bring this up with her. The guilt of it all is already too much. Maybe I shouldn't feel so guilty, I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>haven't done anything wrong. Except deciding to keep this a secret from her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can't do this alone. I need help.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I need to tell someone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wrote the majority of this chapter on my phone (the songs are easier to write on my phone) and the grammar checker isn't as good on it, so if there's any bad grammar I've missed I'm sorry.</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- How Long by Charlie Puth</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hopelessly Devoted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon hears Baz singing, and continues to be an oblivious bisexual</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so excited for this chapter! The idea for this fic came from this song,  so I've been dying to write it ever since. Also, have a longer than average chapter to make up for the slightly shorter one last time.</p>
<p>Warnings for this chapter: bad dads. More mild mentions of Davy being dodgy, and Malcom being homophobic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I need to tell someone, but I don't know if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope might not want other people to know. I've thought about that too many times. But I'm struggling to cope with this burden by myself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe, if it's someone Penny trusts, she won't be as mad at me when she finds out. Though she might understand; I'm not equipped to deal with this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The obvious choice would be to ask Agatha's advice, since she's a mutual friend. Or, was. I don't know where the two of us stand anymore. We haven't spoken to her since, well… since I found out she was dating Baz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps I could talk to Ebb about it. Penny doesn't really know her all that well, but I trust Ebb. A woman who is older and wiser has probably seen it all, right? She could be a good neutral middle ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although, Ebb is pretty sensitive. I don't want to set her off in any way. I'm not sure what her dating history is like, so it might be better to not take that risk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard is the last person I think of. He's a mutual friend, sure, but as I know of, he's never been a confidant of Penny's. She might be upset if I tell him, too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I realise I've been in a squatting position with the same book in my hands for far too long. I just shove the book somewhere on the bottom shelf and hope for the best. Not like I can't fix it later if I have to. Or blame a customer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My knees creak as I stand up, and I'm painfully reminded of how unfit I am. Then a voice from somewhere behind me painfully reminds me who I work with. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Snow, what are you doing?" Baz asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I turn and look at him. His eyebrow is raised at me. I scowl.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My fucking job. Shouldn't you be doing your's?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I am. Why aren't you at the register?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I frown. "Because it's not my turn. It's your's."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, it isn't," he sighs like I'm the biggest idiot he's ever met.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, it is."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not playing this game with you, Snow. Do you even check your schedule?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course I do!" I'm starting to get mad at him, and it reminds me of the other thing I'm mad at him about. "Also, I have a bone to pick with you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz rolls his eyes. "Can you pick it later? You should be working the register."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Who's there now?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't bloody know. I thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>were. Better go and find out, hadn't you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine, whatever, but this conversation isn't over, Baz," I growl as I walk away. He flips me off, so I return it over my shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ebb's at the register when I get there. She reprimands me about my punctuality, but I see the fond smile on her face before she leaves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From behind the counter, I realise how many customers we have. I sigh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As to be expected, I'm kept quite busy, but in my moments of free time, I continue to compile lists of pros and cons on who'd be best to tell about Micah.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then, I just stop thinking entirely and pull Ebb aside when I next see her. I trust her, and this dilemma is driving me mad. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Ebb, you got a minute?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gives me a quizzical look and checks her watch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I do, but you better make it quick, Si. I'm working too, you know," she says, lighthearted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I let out a quick laugh through my nose. "I'll just get straight to the point then. If a friend of yours had been cheated on, what would you do?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ebb narrows her eyes at me. "I'm guessing this isn't a hypothetical question?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, no. Not exactly," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "My friend, Penelope, well… I found out her boyfriend has been seeing someone else, and I suspect Penny might already know that, but they're still together and-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Slow down, Simon. I know I said make it quick, but I can barely keep up," says Ebb. "Take a breath."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right. Ok. I have a suspicion that Penny already knows that her boyfriend is cheating on her, but they haven't broken up, so maybe she doesn't. How am I meant to approach her about this? It's awkward, and I don't want to break her heart."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, it's certainly not fair for her to stay with an unfaithful partner," Ebb says. "So it'll be best for you to tell her as soon as possible, Simon."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know, but… what if she already knows, and just doesn't want to break up with him? That would make me sound like a right dick, wouldn't it?" I tug at my curls anxiously. "I don't want her to hate me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Reason with her, then, Simon. If she's your friend, she'll hear you out." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I suppose Ebb's right. Penny usually listens to me, even when she thinks I'm being ridiculous. Though I admit I've considered the possibility that she thinks I'm lying. It happens, doesn't it? Friends torn apart because of cheating partners. I'd never lie to Penny, not about important stuff, she knows that. She also knows I can't keep secrets from her, which is why all of this sucks so much.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I take a deep breath again, and push away all the doubts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, Ebb. I'm feeling a bit better now."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles kindly at me. "You're welcome. I hope things work out for Penelope. And good luck, if you decide to talk to her about it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod, smiling back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I see Ebb periodically throughout my shift, and each time she gives me a look of encouragement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the end of my shift, I'm all worked up about it. So naturally, I snap at Baz when he nudges me on his way past. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Watch where you're going," I yell, louder than I intended to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He raises his eyebrow at me. Stupid prat, with his stupid perfect eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's got your knickers in a twist, Snow?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You just bumped into me!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It was an accident, get over it, you big baby," he says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He starts to walk away again, and I decide that now is a good time to chew him out about Agatha.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oi, wait!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz sighs. "What, Snow?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Tell me what's going on with you and Agatha," I demand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We're dating," he says bluntly. "You know, the thing you used to do with her?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I grab him by the collar, and he doesn't even look slightly put out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, he's such a pillock. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't even like her," I spit I'm his face. I'll be proud about how low and threatening my voice sounds later. "I heard you say so." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He frowns. "When could you have possibly heard me say that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The other day, when you were cosying up to Agatha over coffee, I followed you into the toilets. You were on a phone call-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You followed me into the bathroom?! What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Snow? God, I was right to have my suspicions then. 'Just got here.' Bullshit! What's </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>with you?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't trust you! I still don't! Why are you with Agatha if you don't even </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>her?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If I thought Baz's expression before was scary, I wasn't prepared for the cold glare that replaces his seething anger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That is none of your business, Snow." He tears away from me, but I catch his wrist before he gets too far.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why? Because if you're doing this to spite me, that's a pretty shit reason. You could be going out with a girl you actually fancy, for starters," I say. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm not sure why I say it, it's not like I care. It's probably because I want him away from Agatha.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't know what you're talking about," Baz says quietly. I almost miss it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Enlighten me, then," I reply, and I shock myself by how genuine I sound.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps that's why Baz says, "I'm gay, Simon."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks just as surprised as I do that he said it, except I'm not sure which bit I'm more taken aback by. The admission of his sexuality or the fact that he used my first name.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," is all I can say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. 'Oh'," says Baz bitterly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Then, why Agatha?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks at me like he's considering something. He seems to decide that he might as well spill his guts at this point, because he replies, "do you know what a 'beard' is?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What, like, facial hair?" I ask stupidly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz rolls his eyes. "No, Snow, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>like facial hair."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You called me Simon before."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What? No, I didn't."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, you- you know what, nevermind. Go on then, explain to me what a beard is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, you're basically dating Agatha because your dad doesn't approve of you being gay?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At some point, we found ourselves sitting side by side in one of the aisles. I look up at the shelves to see which section we're in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Romance. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Christ, if that's not ironic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Way to sum up all of my internal struggles, but yes," Baz says. I don't even have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes at me. He does that a lot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not to sound like a dick-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's a first."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up. Anyway, not to sound like a dick, but why does it matter to you so much? Surely you'd rather be happy than be miserable to please your family," I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz looks like he wants to punch me. Nothing new there, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My family means everything to me, and if this is what I have to do to please my father, then I'll do it. As far as I'm concerned, this is my only option," he says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His voice sounds so small. I feel a pang in my chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I feel bad for him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I couldn't imagine living my life like that. What about Agatha? It's not fair to her. Hell, it's not fair to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Why am I trying to convince him of why this is a bad idea? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Why do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>so much? It's frightening. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz says as much. "What's it to you, Snow? Don't tell me that you actually give a damn about me? Or is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>about Wellbelove?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't even need to think before I reply, "of course it's not just about Agatha! I think everyone deserves happiness. Well, except maybe murderers. So as long as you don't kill anyone, I see no reason why you shouldn't find yourself a nice bloke."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz snorts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I made Baz </span>
  </em>
  <span>snort. It's… kind of adorable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's… well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>disturbing, </span>
  </em>
  <span>is what is, the level of concern you're showing, but I appreciate it. I just-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Whatever you're about to say, don't. You're a humongous pain in my arse, but I refuse to drop this until you believe that you deserve better than this." I'm all fired up, and I mean every word.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Snow, I told you, my dad-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Screw your dad! I'm sorry, but… a toxic person is a toxic person, Baz-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>insightful."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I ignore his sarcasm and continue, "-and it doesn't matter if they're your friend or your family. You aren't obliged to keep them around for those reasons. Sometimes, it's best to just cut them out. I get that it's hard, but…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know nothing about my life, Snow," says Baz angrily. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But I know what it's like to have a shit dad!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We both go quiet. Baz opening up to me was one thing, but me returning the favour was a whole different story. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe I should, though. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>come out to me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz breaks the silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You alright, Snow?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess so. It's just, I saw my dad after him not being in contact for ages, and it brought up some painful memories," I explain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What happened?" His voice is low, but not like it normally is, when he's threatening me. It's soft. Cautious.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"When I saw him, or in general?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Both?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sigh. "When my mum died, my dad coped by getting so intoxicated he barely remembered his own name. He's angry, when he's drunk, and it scares me. I don't know how long it took, but eventually he moved onto harder stuff than booze, and…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck, I think I'm going to have a panic attack in front of Baz. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Breathe, Snow," he says gently. "You don't have to continue."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But I do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He made me do these 'favours' for him. None of it was legal, and I'm not proud of it, but I helped him because he was my dad. I was glad to be rid of him when I moved to uni, sure, but I still helped him, because I hoped he'd change, and that I'd get my dad back."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I have to stop now, because it's getting too much. Baz, however, seems to piece it together. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, that's what he wanted, when you saw him?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod. "I told him I don't want to see him, that I won't help him, anymore. He's toxic, and I had to cut him out of my life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I think Baz knows where I'm going with this, and he huffs in frustration. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's not the same, Snow. What you've gone through with your dad sucks, but our situations aren't the same."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe not, but it doesn't matter, because toxic is toxic. Your dad is hurting you in a different way, but he's still hurting you," I desperately try to reason with him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He doesn't hurt me. Not physically," Baz says defensively. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That wasn't what I was saying. He doesn't have to hurt you physically to hurt you emotionally. Making you repress a part of you is </span>
  <em>
    <span>toxic, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Baz."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Say toxic one more time and I'll break your hand," he jokes. At least, I hope it was a joke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry, I just want you to see my point." When he doesn't say anything, I add, "tell you what, I'll help you find someone."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In all honesty, I don't know why I say it, but the idea of Baz being miserable makes me uncomfortable. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks like I just told him that Santa is dead. "You want to wingman me? Why?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait, is this a plot to get your precious Wellbelove back?" He asks suspiciously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's my turn to roll my eyes. "No, Baz. This is a plot to get you a boyfriend because you fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. No matter what your dad says. Besides, Agatha doesn't want me back, she's made that pretty clear." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz's shoulders slump. "I'm sorry, about you and Agatha. And you're right, it's not fair to her," he admits.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Let her down easy, yeah?" I nudge his shoulder. He sits upright again. "So, want me as your wingman?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head slowly, and with a smirk. "If I say yes, will you let me go home?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I check my watch. Damn, my shift ended ages ago. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I will."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine," he sighs. "You may be my wingman, Snow." He doesn't sound enthusiastic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I get to my feet and offer Baz my hand. For a moment, I think he won't take it, but he does, and I pull him up after me. Before I get to say anything else, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>click clack </span>
  </em>
  <span>of high heels draws our attention.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Basil, what are you still doing here, boyo? I'm not going to pay you extra for- what are you and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Salisbury </span>
  </em>
  <span>up to?" It's Fiona.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nothing scandalous, if that's what you're thinking," Baz scoffs. "We're just talking."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, talk on your own time. Go on, get, the pair of ya. You're free to go," she says, shoo-ing us out of the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I hang back as Baz walks out into the car park. I feel his eyes on me when he glances at me over his shoulder, but he doesn't say anything.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I've got to text Penny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>u home? need to talk to u abt somethin </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>actually i have a lot i need to talk to u abt </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Yeah, I'm home. Why aren't you? Didn't your shift end at half past? Xx</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>There's something I need to ask you as well x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>got a bit distracted soz. b home soon</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Alright, Si xx </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>oh fuck me</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>I'd rather not</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>What's up? Xx </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>someone is singing</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Drifting across the car park is the unmistakable sound of music. I'm dealing with enough as it is, does this have to happen now?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I make it to my car, hoping that I can just drive away and ignore it. That's until I turned to see Baz sitting in his car, the window rolled down slightly and the engine not running.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's the one singing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Guess mine is not the first heart broken."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing I think is how soulful Baz's voice is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The second is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'm not the first to know / There's just no getting over you." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I've never watched Grease, but I'm pretty sure that's what this song is from. Has Baz watched Grease? Do the people who sing to me even need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>the songs they're singing, or can they just sing anything? I'll ask Penny what she thinks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"You know I'm just a fool who's willing / To sit around and wait for you." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He leans his head back on the headrest, and stares out the window, all brooding and shit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What a drama queen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"But baby can't you see there's nothing else for me to do / I'm hopelessly devoted to you."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's only just occurred to me that Baz is singing about someone. I'm not sure if this makes my life easier or harder, as his wingman that is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Whoever it is he's singing about, it seems Baz is convinced it's one sided. Maybe it isn't. If it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I'm fucked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"But now there's nowhere to hide / Since you pushed my love aside."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, it's impressive how dramatic one man can be, in a stationary car no less. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus, just have a wank like a normal person, Baz.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"My head is saying, 'fool, forget him' / My heart is saying, 'don't let go'."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Whoever this mystery man is sure is lucky. Or maybe unlucky, because Baz seems overly attached.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>God, I told Penny I'd be home soon. Instead, I'm watching Baz sing in his car. This might be creepier than following him into the toilets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No, following him into the toilets was definitely creepier.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Hopelessly devoted to you / Hopelessly devoted to you." </span>
  </em>
  <span>As Baz finishes his song, his car engine roars to life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I dive into my own car before he catches me, but I watch him pull out of the car park before starting my own engine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I'm sure that he's gone, I drive away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pen."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I set down our mugs on the coffee table. Penny throws a mint Aero at my head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ow!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You seemed kinda down this morning, so I bought you a treat. You're welcome," she says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I unwrap the chocolate bar, nudging Penny out of the way with my feet so I can sit next to her on the sofa. She huffs, but uses it as an opportunity to help herself to the Hobnobs. I swear, the girl is a biscuit fiend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I finally got round to confronting Baz about Agatha, and it didn't go the way I expected it to," I say through a mouthful of chocolate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't speak with your mouth full, Simon," Penny says in disgust. "And what do you mean? What happened?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I debate whether or not I should tell her about Baz's sexuality. It's not exactly my secret to tell.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It was just… eye opening. Then we ended up bonding over bad dads," I say, choosing my words carefully. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny dunks a Hobnob into her tea, and watches in horror as it breaks off in her drink. I can't help but laugh at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Argh, no! Don't laugh at me, Simon, this is a tragedy!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That only makes me laugh harder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you," I sing, cry-laughing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She glares at me. "Anyway! Did anything else happen with Basilton?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, yeah," I reply, wiping tears from my eyes. "I told him I'd find him someone he actually liked. He confessed that he didn't like Agatha, by the way."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What, so you're Baz's wingman now?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I shrug. "Guess so. Also, you know I text and said someone was singing? It was Baz."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No way! What was he singing?" Penny asks enthusiastically. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think it was a song from Grease. 'Hopelessly Devoted To You'?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny snorts. "Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>God. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can't imagine. Sounds like you have your work cut out for you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. Maybe."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Was it weird, hearing Baz sing?" She asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not as weird as hearing Fiona singing. Katy Perry lyrics have no right coming out of Fiona Pitch's mouth." I shudder at the memory. "At least I can imagine Baz's guilty pleasure being musicals."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny seems to consider this. "Yeah, so can I, actually."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I suddenly remember something. "Hey, what did you want to ask me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It doesn't matter," she says. There's definitely something she's not telling me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright, then." I decide not to push. "What movie are we watching tonight?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shrek."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't tell Penny about Micah.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I will, but not yet. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Baz has watched Grease with Fiona at least once, and you cannot convince me otherwise.</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- Hopelessly Devoted To You from Grease (performed by Olivia Newton-John)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Grenade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon is an idiot. What more can I say?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've had a lot on my plate, so this chapter has taken a really long time to write. Oh well, it's here now. Yes, there's more Bruno Mars in this chapter. I've been relying mostly on my brother's taste in music because mine is mostly Panic! and Fall Out Boy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tuesday mornings are slow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Weekday mornings are always slow, in general, but there's something specially excruciating about Tuesdays.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's not the start of the week, it's not the middle, or the end. Tuesdays are like the bit between Christmas and New Year, where time doesn't exist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it's so damn hard to find your coworker a boyfriend when no one is coming into the shop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We've had a few customers. Mostly old people who have too much free time anyway, but I don't know how appreciative Baz would be if I set him up with a pensioner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why couldn't my power be to bring life to the fictional people in these books I'm surrounded by? Surely there's got to be a character in here Baz wouldn't mind shagging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now I'm thinking about Baz shagging. Great.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don't need a mirror to tell me how red my face is, but the staff toilet has one big enough to display my shame anyway. I splash myself with cold water, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>not today, sir. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My hair is still dripping when I step back out into the shop. (I don't know how effective paper towels would be in the hair drying department). It will dry quick enough, anyway. Not until Baz has caught me shaking water off like a dog, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Excellent, just what I fucking needed today.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I knew you were an animal, Snow, but I'd no idea you'd actually behave like one. What were you trying to do in there, drown yourself?" He mocks, gesturing to the bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I scowl. "Shove off, Baz."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that really how you're going to treat me, after our big heart to heart yesterday?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You started it!" I yell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, can't let you get too comfortable, can I?" The bastard smirks at me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I decide to change the subject. "What are you doing?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Working. What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing?" He asks, motioning to my wet hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"None of your business," I snap, feeling heat rushing into my cheeks again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So we're not sharing anymore, then? Shame."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The retort is ready on my lips, but then I get another idea. "Well, maybe you wouldn't mind sharing what kind of man you're into?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz chokes. I resist the urge to laugh at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yesterday you agreed to let me help you find a boyfriend. How am I meant to do that if I don't know your type?" I feel silly as I say it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I thought you were joking," says Baz.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, now I wish I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" I huff. "Do you want my help or not?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks genuinely stunned. I don't know what to do, so I just stand there awkwardly until he says something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Snow, let's… let's talk about this later, yeah?" He actually looks shy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I decide to mess with him a little bit. "I'll find out eventually, Baz. I'm good at learning people's secrets."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz raises a fucking eyebrow at me.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Of course.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that so?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. Like, how I know Agatha is proper into you, whether I like it or not. And how your aunt was having boyfriend problems, or how Penny's boyfriend is cheating on her." I clap my hand over my mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz doesn't look like he particularly cares about this new information, but I still shouldn't have said it, because Penelope might. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>you know all those secrets, Snow?" He asks in the most condescending way possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They sing," I say, without thinking about my answer before it falls out of my mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz scoffs. "They sing?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Um… can we pretend I didn't just say that?" I ask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We could, but I'd rather see you make a fool of yourself first," he says. "Explain."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I could just walk away. I could ignore him and pretend this conversation never happened. But I don't. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, it's weird," I start, running a hand over the back of my neck. "Ever since I got struck by lightning the other day, people have been telling me their inner thoughts through song."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can tell by the look on his face that Baz doesn't believe me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You got struck by lightning and now people sing to you? That's </span>
  <em>
    <span>moronic.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's true! Agatha did it on your date!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you think I'm stupid, Snow? I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>there, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wellbelove didn't sing a note."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's the thing. Only I can hear it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz rolls his eyes. "How convenient."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll prove it to you!" I say, desperately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I'm not sure why I care so much. Maybe it's just the relief of telling someone else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I hear people singing every day, someone is bound to sing to me at some point."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz takes a moment to think, and I think he's going to tell me I'm an idiot (which is fair, to be honest).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he smirks. "Alright."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I forgot about the part where I can't control my powers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz has been watching me closely all day, especially when the few customers we </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>had today have come in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's starting to get embarrassing, when I finally hear a girl's voice drifting through the shelves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"This was never the way I planned / Not my intention." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Baz! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Baz!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>I hiss, waving him over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stomps over, begrudgingly. "What, Snow?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"There's a girl," I say, pointing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Glad you can tell the difference," says Baz, sarcastically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I scowl at him. "But she's, you know." I try to mime, being aware of a few people just in earshot of me and Baz, but he's being difficult. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Singing."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I say it so quietly, I'm sure he's missed it, but then he turns in the direction I was pointing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't hear anything."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's because only I can hear it, I told you that!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz crosses his arms. "Fine, I'll humour you. What's she singing?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I kissed a girl and I liked it."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The song finally registers in my head, and I frown. "Katy Perry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why, who else has sung Katy Perry?" Baz asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your aunt."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that supposed to be a, like, 'your mum' joke? Because it's not funny."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I wish it was."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Still don't believe you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hear the girl stop singing, and soon she's approaching the two of us at the register with her books. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz is looking at me with amusement in his eyes. I take it as a challenge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl greets me and hands over her books. Whilst I'm scanning them, I say, "you should tell that girl you kissed that you like her."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz's face falls into his hands in dismay. Though, I do think I see him chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl looks horrified. "What?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You… didn't you kiss a girl?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know how you know that, you don't even know me, but stay the hell away," she snaps, swiping her books off the counter and leaving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz was in hysterics, laughing at me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, well done. You've succeeded in scaring a customer off," Baz says. "Probably thinks you're a stalker. Oh, wait, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>a stalker."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I am not!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Followed me into the men's room, didn't you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's not the same!" I protest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz seems to have calmed down from his laughing fit, and has quickly lost interest in this conversation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Snow. I have books to shelve," he says as he starts to walk away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It makes me angry that Baz doesn't believe me, but I refuse to let this go until he does. I have to do something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Baz, wait! I can prove I'm not lying! I've heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>singing. I know your secret."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That gets his attention. He turns back around to face me, and for once, he's let his cold, indifferent mask slip. He looks worried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't know anything, Snow," he says, quiet and menacing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I do. You have a crush," I say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz gets defensive. "It's not what you-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Who is he?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz blinks at me, stunned. "What?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Panic starts to creep in as I think that maybe I read the situation wrong. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What else could he have been singing about, though?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before I can reply, both of our attentions are turned towards the door, as a customer walks in. I feel Baz freeze up next to me when the man notices us.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's handsome (not as handsome as Baz, but still handsome), with silky auburn hair, pale skin, and sparkling blue eyes. The man also appears to be shorter than Baz, maybe more my height. I can't tell from here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck are you doing here?" Baz asks. He sounds genuinely shocked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guy smirks, and it's so flirtatious that I want to turn away. Or punch him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hello to you too, Basilton. Don't worry, I'm just getting some books."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz looks too stunned to say anything, so I decide to break the silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hi, I'm Simon. How do you two know each other?" I offer him my hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes it. "Lamb. It's nice to meet you, Simon, Baz used to talk about you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He and I were course mates at university."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turn back to Baz. He's turned bright red, and he's still speechless. I look between the two of them, and then it clicks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An expression of smugness settles on my face. "Oh, Baz, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>him?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever stupor Baz was in, this seems to break him out of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Snow,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he growls. "Shut up."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You should be nicer to your coworkers, Basil," says Lamb playfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz glares daggers at him. "Just go and get your books, Lamb." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz adamantly avoids both of us as Lamb goes to pick up his books, and being behind the register, I can't exactly leave my post to follow him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Lamb brings his books up to me, I scan them absent-mindedly. Baz is watching us from behind one of the shelves, but he quickly turns away when he notices me looking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lamb thanks me, takes his books, and heads for the door. On his way out, I catch him winking at Baz.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oi, Baz!" I call across the shop, before he can run away from me again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What, Snow?" He sounds annoyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that the guy you have a crush on? Because he definitely seemed interested to me, so you should probably go for it," I say, trying to sound reassuring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baz sighs loudly. "You know what? I don't think I like you butting into my love life, non existent as it is. From now on, keep your nose out of it." Then he disappears behind the bookshelf again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A part of me wants to fight back. I don't know why, but suddenly I feel so invested in ensuring that Baz is happy, and even if he doesn't want it, I want to help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Baz doesn't like me. I shouldn't care. If he wants me to drop it, then I should, without hesitation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I decide that I will. Until I hear him singing again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's been roughly about ten minutes since Lamb left (I hadn't been keeping track, honestly), and the shop has been quiet as the grave. So when I hear music, I nearly jump out of my skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Give you all I have and you toss it in the trash."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can forgive Baz for singing a song from a musical, but Bruno Mars is a step too far. I'm definitely weirded out this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Also, has he changed the lyrics? I didn't know they could do that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"To give me all your love is all I'd ever ask / 'Cause what you don't understand is / I'd catch a grenade for you." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wow, Baz seems to be pining </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don't get it. Lamb certainly seemed interested when he stopped by the shop. Why does he still think he doesn't have a shot? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I would go through all this pain / Take a bullet straight through my brain / Yes, I would die for you, baby / But you won't do the same." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shop falls quiet again. I immediately want to start hounding Baz with questions, but he seemed genuinely upset with me earlier, so I say nothing. Not yet, anyway. I'll get Baz to talk eventually. I'm not giving up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Simon, what's up?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Baz sang to me again."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I'm in my car, parked in Tesco's car park (Penny texted me and asked if I could pick up some frozen pizzas because she forgot to go shopping). As soon as I stopped the car, I called her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ok. And?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And, well, it was weird."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Elaborate, Simon," Penny sighs. It's like I can hear her eyes rolling over the phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, right. So, this dude, Lamb, came into the shop today. Said he was friends with Baz at uni," I start to explain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I remember Lamb. He was in our Lit class," Penny interrupts. I forgot Penny and Baz shared a class.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Did Baz ever give you the impression that he was into Lamb?" I ask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's a short pause while Penny thinks. "Well, maybe. I used to catch them staring at each other a lot. That doesn't necessarily mean anything though."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Maybe it does. Lamb was being really flirty with Baz, and I even saw him blush at one point. Baz, I mean," I clarify.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just because Lamb was flirting, that doesn't mean Baz likes him," says Penny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But I'm so sure of it! Baz only started singing after he had left the shop. And for some odd reason, he still thinks Lamb isn't into him!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's another pause. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Simon," Penny says, slowly. "What was said between you, Baz and Lamb?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Like I said, Lamb was flirting and Baz was blushing-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What comment made Baz blush most?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It-," I think back, struggling to recall the conversation. "It was just the once, I think. Lamb said something about how Baz used to talk about me when they were in class together. Then I looked back and Baz was blushing." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What happened after he left?" Penny asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I tried to encourage Baz to ask him out, but he told me to stop being nosy. Then he sang Grenade." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny goes quiet. Really quiet, and for such a long time, I think she's hung up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, finally, she says, "oh, Simon."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You really don't know, do you? You think you have this all figured out, but you really don't." Penny is laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What don't I know? Penelope! Tell me!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I could do that," Penny chuckles, "but I'd much rather see how long it takes you to work it out on your own. More fun that way." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Penelope!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Make mine a Hawaiian, yeah?" Then she hangs up for real.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe I need a new best friend.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh, yeah, there's also more Katy Perry in this chapter too. I won't promise that the next chapter will be up quicker than this one was, but I hope that it will be.</p><p>Songs:<br/>- I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry <br/>- Grenade by Bruno Mars</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Treat You Better</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon has a picnic with his friends.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic isn't dead, but my motivation to write it is. This chapter is slightly longer than average to make up for being gone so long, for anyone who was actually enjoying this XD</p>
<p>Trigger warnings: cheating partners</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Simon, you're my best mate, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>when you're stressed out about something."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine, Penelope."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bullshit. Come on, you can talk to me." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We've been having this same conversation since Tuesday, and I don't know how much longer I can keep lying to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny's right, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>stressed. Work is stressful, keeping secrets is stressful, having a strange 'superpower' is stressful. Whatever the hell is going on with Baz is stressful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even though me and Pen have been best friends for forever, I just don't know where to start unpacking all of this. This is why lists are great. Helps me prioritise my problems. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No.1: Tell Penny about Micah</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No.2: If no.1 goes badly, be a good friend and have Penny's back</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No.3: Figure out what Baz's damn problem is</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No.4: Once no.3 is complete, hook Baz up with Lamb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No.5: Win back Agatha</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I run through the list in my head again, and a small voice asks why winning Agatha back isn't a more important priority. I ignore it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you even listening to me?" Penny's voice cuts through my thoughts, and it surprises me so bad that it makes me jump.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm? What were you saying?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny rolls her eyes. "I was saying, maybe this weekend, we could take your mind off whatever you aren't telling me by having a day out. I was thinking, maybe a picnic?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"A picnic?" I say, sceptically. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We aren't made of money, Simon!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine, then. A picnic."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny claps her hands together. "Great! Is it ok if I invite some of our friends? Not saying that your company is boring, but… the more the merrier, as they say."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. Sure." I'm still distracted, and Penny knows that, but she doesn't push it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't know what a picnic is going to do. The last thing I want to do right now is be around people. What if someone else sings to me? I can't cope with any more problems right now, I'm dealing with enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then, do something about it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I tell myself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I know what I have to do, even if I don't want to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I have to tell Penny what I know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sunday rolls around, and Penelope is busy packing a picnic feast for us.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you think this is too much food?" I ask, shifting a pile of sandwiches to the side so I can set my breakfast bowl on the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The way you eat? No," Penny replies. "In fact, this might not be enough for the vacuum that is your stomach." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I grab the closest thing to me (a bag of salt and vinegar crisps) and throw it at her. She feigns being shot, and I grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, who's coming, then?" I ask. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I invited Micah-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The spoonful of Cornflakes stops halfway to my mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"-Shepard, Agatha, and, um, I think she's invited Baz." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Great," I say sarcastically, shovelling my cereal into my mouth so quickly I nearly choke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny gives me a look. "I thought you and Baz have been getting along better recently?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I've been trying to, Pen, but he's a nightmare! He's being difficult, and I've no idea why!" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think I might," says Penny slyly. She's got this infuriating smirk on her face that drives me absolutely insane. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going to tell me what you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>you know? Or are you just going to keep on being a shit about it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. We'll just have to see."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ugh. I thought this picnic was supposed to make me feel less stressed."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I wolf down the rest of my breakfast and give myself indigestion. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great start.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To be fair to Penny, she's found a pretty nice park. I clearly don't get out often enough, because I didn't even know this place existed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's got a children's playground. The kind that has a basket swing, a trim trail, trampolines in the ground, and a freaking zipline. There's also a set of normal swings, some slides, a climbing frame, a roundabout and a seesaw. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the centre of the park is a huge water fountain, that people seem to be taking advantage of in the warm June weather. I wouldn't mind having a splash in it myself, if I hadn't already embarrassed myself enough in front of Baz at work the other day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We pick a spot under a large tree on the side of the path furthest from the fountain, though we still have a good view of it from here. I help Penny straighten out the picnic blanket before she sets the basket down on it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha kicks off her sandals to go running barefoot across the grass, throwing in a cartwheel here and there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Much to Penny's annoyance, Micah hasn't looked up from his phone since we arrived. He doesn't even look up when she asks for his help.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard, on the other hand, is more than eager to help. Usually his excitable behaviour puts Penny off, but right now she's being unexpectedly patient with him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then my gaze comes to rest on Baz. He's wearing an expensive looking floral shirt, buttoned halfway. It's open enough that I can see the bare expanse of his chest, and I'm surprised by the dark, sparse hairs he has there. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and smirks. I roll my own eyes at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going to sit down?" I ask him, as myself, Penny, Micah and Shepard settle on the blanket. "Or are you too good to eat on the floor with us commoners?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks at me like he wants to argue, but in the end I guess he chooses not to give me the satisfaction, or something, because he kneels down between me and Shepard on the blanket. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha cartwheels over to us and grabs a bottle of water from the bag we brought with us (we couldn't fit everything into the basket). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny lays out some of the food in the middle of the blanket, and my stomach rumbles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I've got sandwiches, mini sausage rolls, crisps, Haribos-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"-the kitchen sink," I joke. Penny looks unamused. "What? You packed half the pantry! We're going to have to go food shopping again." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny thrusts some food at me; a bag of crisps, a punnet of strawberries and a corned beef sandwich. I look down at what she's given me, then I look back up at her. She sighs and hands me half a tub of butter and plate of scones wrapped in cling film.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up and eat, Simon." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I've eaten the sandwich and half of the strawberries before I find I'm no longer able to resist the scones. I butter up two (very generously) and pile on a few more strawberries between them. Penny watches with a look somewhere between disappointed and amused as I bring the scones to my mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The look on Baz's face, however, is one of pure horror.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll never fit that whole thing in your mouth, Snow! And if you do you'll make yourself sick!" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I take that as a challenge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, yeah? Watch me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I look Baz dead in the eyes as I slowly push the scone mountain into my mouth. Whether I intended for this to be sexy or not, it very much isn't. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although I manage to fit both the scones in, my cheeks are now bulging, I'm drooling and I'm having a very hard time not choking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was a bad idea, and Baz is laughing at me. Bastard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's not laughing for long, though. Agatha sidles up to him, batting her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Baz, darling, would you like a strawberry?" She asks sweetly, bringing the fruit up to his lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, um-" he doesn't get the chance to answer; Agatha takes his open mouth as an opportunity to feed him anyway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I glare at him, and it's like we know what the other is thinking:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"You haven't </span>
  </em>
  <span>told </span>
  <em>
    <span>her? Not cool, Baz."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Get off my back, Snow."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"No. Should have thought about that before you sang to me."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha continues force feeding Baz the rest of the strawberries, looking at him in a way I never saw her look at me. A horrible combination of anger and jealousy twists in my gut.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Christ, get a room, you two!" Penny grumbles, before glancing over at Micah.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I silently wonder if she's wishing he would feed </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>strawberries, too. Then I notice that Shepard also looks annoyed. Or distressed? Honestly, I rarely ever see him in a bad mood, so when his face is doing anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>but </span>
  </em>
  <span>smiling, I find him hard to read.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm about to ask him if he's ok when the music starts. Try as I might, I can't contain the groan that escapes me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Baby, can't you see, I'm calling? / A guy like you, should wear a warning / It's dangerous, I'm falling." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha's voice is sultry, and it makes me feel sick with jealousy. Even though I know Baz can't hear her, I can tell he's feeling just as uncomfortable with her actions. She's practically in his lap.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, it's your own fault, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think bitterly to myself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I need a hit, baby give me it / You're dangerous, I'm loving it."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There must be signs of anguish on my face, because Penny nudges me with her foot and sends me a questioning gaze. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Do you feel me now?"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I silently beg with my eyes for Penny's help. She seems to catch on, and her expression turns into a smirk. I kick her lightly, and her smirk falters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'm addicted to you / Don't you know that you're toxic? / And I love what you do / Don't you know that you're toxic?" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You alright, there, Si?" Penny teases.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before I can reply, Micah scoffs loudly, which earns him the dirtiest look I've ever seen from Shepard. The two continue to glare daggers at one another, until Shep gets up, murmuring something about needing the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of us watch him go in puzzlement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's up with him?" Baz asks, seeming to welcome the distraction from Agatha's advances. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know," Penny frowns. "Should I go check on him?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll do it," I offer, also glad for the excuse to get away from Agatha.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I follow Shepard to the other side of the fountain, where he sits and sulks gloomily. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard is never in a bad mood, at least not around company, so to see him this upset makes me feel more than a little worried. I approach him carefully, but just before I reach him, music begins to play again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, come on! Give me a break!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I expect to hear some stranger pour their heart out to me, but to my surprise, it's Shepard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I won't lie to you / I know he's just not right for you." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Who is he singing about?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And you can tell me if I'm off / But I see it on your face / When you say that he's the one that you want."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard has a deep, soulful singing voice. I'm almost mesmerised by it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And you're spending all your time / In this wrong situation-"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wait, could he be singing about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Does Shepard know about Micah's unfaithfulness?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"- And anytime you want it to stop / I know I can treat you better than he can."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hold on a second, if he's truly singing this song about my best friend then… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And any girl like you deserves a gentleman."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>… Shepard likes Penny!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Tell me, why are we wasting time / On all this wasted crying / When you should be with me instead?" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Christ, my head is spinning. These powers are a blessing and a curse. I don't even know how to handle this situation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I know I can treat you better / Better than he can." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shepard? Are you alright?" I take a careful step closer after he jumps at my presence. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon!" He plasters on a big fake smile and pats the ground next to him. I sit. "Sorry about all that. I didn't mean to ruin our day out."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You've not ruined anything, Shep," I reassure. "What's going on?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I try not to push, because I can see how reluctant Shep is to open up, but my curiosity is killing me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's just… ah, I don't know if I should say," he replies, avoiding eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shepard, we're friends. If you need to talk about something, you can trust me," I prompt. I give him a moment to respond, and get nothing, so I try again. "Is it about Micah?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks at me before his face disappears into his hands as he groans.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I was being really obvious, wasn't I?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"A little, mate, yeah. So do you want to tell me what's happening? Or are you going to make me guess?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard lifts his head, and I see the slightest smirk on his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll tell you, but I think I will make you try and guess first," he says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright, then," I reply. "Could it possibly be that you found out that Micah is cheating on Penny, and the reason that upsets you so much is because you like her?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A smug smile tries to creep onto my face when I see Shepard's jaw drop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How did-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How did I know? Well, in truth, I found out about Micah's affair myself, and the 'you fancying Penny' bit was more of a shot in the dark." I decide he doesn't need to know about my powers just yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You knew and didn't say anything?" He asks. It's not an accusation; he doesn't sound mad. Just confused.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. I've been feeling really guilty about it, but I just don't know how to break it to her. Pen's my best friend, I don't want to be the one to deliver heartbreaking news to her."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know how you feel," he says. "You're right, I do like her, but I don't want her to think I'm just telling her to break them up. I don't want to ruin anything between us, friendship or more."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod along as he speaks, though I'm only half listening. An idea forms in my mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, perhaps we could tell her together," I suggest. "That way, I can share the burden and feel just that little bit less guilty, while also assuring her that you aren't lying."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now Shepard is looking hopefully at me. "Really? You'll help me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We'd be helping each other, so yeah. 'Course I will."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was hard getting Penny to agree to a private conversation. Micah kept insisting he had to tag along as well. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Also, Baz was practically begging me with his eyes not to leave him alone with the other two. It shouldn't have mattered, really, but it made me feel a twinge of guilt in my gut.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, though, we got Penelope alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon, what is this? Why are the two of you being weird?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She stands there, glaring at us impatiently, with one hand on her hip. It's like I can physically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shep's anxiety radiating from him under her gaze.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's something that we both need to tell you," I tell her, "and I'm afraid you might not like it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looks between us. "Spit it out then, one of you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm about to open my mouth to tell her myself, but Shepard beats me to it, to my surprise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penelope, I'm so sorry, but Micah has been cheating on you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, even I'm rendered speechless by shock, but I get a hold of myself and dive in to back him up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's true. I found out about it when we were over at his the other day. My, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you know what, </span>
  </em>
  <span>played a part."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard sends me a curious look at that, but I can see that Penny understands what I mean. It seems to reassure her that this is the truth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can't really read her expression, but she appears to be deep in thought, which concerns me. This reaction isn't what I was expecting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she nods and says, "I know."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My jaw drops.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know?"</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I didn't know for sure, but I kind of suspected it. I've been trying to catch him in the act for weeks."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If you suspected he was cheating, why didn't you confront him about it?" Shepard asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I tried to. He told me that I was being paranoid, and accused me of trying to sabotage the relationship," she explains. "I wanted to be sure before I confronted him again."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He said that to you? And you stayed with him?" Shepard looks so distressed, I almost reach out to hug him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I've known for ages, Pen, it's been torture. I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but you've known this whole time? Why didn't you talk to me?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Because I didn't want you to go full Simon trying to defend my honour. What good is a best friend if he's in jail for GBH?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But he-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If I may, Bunce," I get cut off. Turning around, I see Baz standing just a bit behind me, listening in. I jump out of my skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Jesus </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Baz. Don't sneak up on people like that!" I complain, rubbing my chest and willing my heart to stop thumping.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He frowns. "It's not my fault that you're the least observant person I know. Don't expect me to apologise for that. Anyway, Bunce," he turns to Penny. "My Aunt Fiona has brought round her fair share of bad guys. I have to say, Micah certainly doesn't strike me as one, but then, you can never judge a book by its cover."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Get to the point, Basil," she says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right, sorry. What I'm saying is, the second he shows any sign of disrespect towards you, it's time to pack your bags. Give someone an inch, and they'll take a yard." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz steps forward and gently places his hand on Penny's shoulder. I hadn't even noticed that her eyes were now glistening with tears. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If you let him walk all over you once, he'll do it again. Especially if he thinks he's getting away with cheating on you. Don't give him the satisfaction, Bunce. Leave him."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With his sleeve, he carefully wipes Penny's eyes before she starts to cry. I've never seen Baz being this soft with someone before. My heart aches.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're right, Basil. I shouldn't be wasting my time on a low life who clearly doesn't respect or appreciate me. I'm going to go over there and tell him it's over."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Penny marches off, Baz turns to Shep. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You did the right thing by telling her," he says to him. Shep nods.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Shep, you know that, er, thing," I cut in, shooting a quick sideways glance at Baz before continuing. "Penny needs her friends right now, so promise me you won't try and rush her into anything, please?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, no, never. I understand that she'll need time. Whether she feels the same or not, I'll give her space. I promise."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you," I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shep gives me a small smile before following Penny. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz turns to follow them too, but I grab his wrist. "Wait, Baz, I wanted to thank you too."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What for?" He asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"For helping, just now, and being level headed about it. Penny's right. I would've flown into a rage." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Your hot-headedness certainly wouldn't have helped the situation, no, but I was happy to help, Snow," he replies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles at me. A wide, genuine smile. My stomach fills with butterflies. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I think I've got a crush on Baz Pitch.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I ship Shepard and Penny so hard, and if they don't become canon I will cry. Part of the reason why this chapter took so long was because I couldn't think of a song for Agatha, and I eventually picked Toxic coz I thought it was funny/ironic, you know, since Baz is canonically a vampire XD</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- Toxic by Britney Spears <br/>- Treat You Better by Shawn Mendes</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Supermarket Flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon is grieving for Lucy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Two chapters in one day? Yes. I want to try and get this fic finished as quickly as possible. This chapter is both sad and soppy, so I hope you enjoy it.</p>
<p>Trigger warnings: mentions of terminal illness related death, mentions of murder</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>I took the supermarket flowers from the windowsill, threw the day old tea from the cup.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On the morning of the three year anniversary of my mother's death, I struggle to get out of bed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ebb told me that I didn't have to go into work today if it was going to be too much, but I told her that I'd be fine. That it would be good to distract myself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now I'm really wishing I had taken the day off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I finally do manage to drag myself out of bed, I see that Penny has already buttered me some scones for my breakfast and left them on a plate wrapped in clingfilm by the kettle. I also notice that she's made a pot of tea, though it's starting to go cold.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I pour the tea out anyway and stick it in the microwave. While I wait, I read the note Penny has left for me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I figured you might not want to make your own breakfast today, so I left you some scones ready to eat. There's also tea if it hasn't gone too cold. I'll see you after work. Take it easy, Si. I love you. - Penny &lt;3</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I brush a tear out of my eye quickly before I retrieve my drink from the microwave and sit down for my breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's hard to swallow, even though the scones themselves aren't that dry. I wash it down with tea and sluggishly get myself ready for work. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before I hop in the shower, I text Ebb to let her know that I'll probably be late. She just sends back a heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Took the get 'well soon cards' and stuffed animals, poured the old ginger beer down the sink.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I get into work 15 minutes late, and though Fiona gives me a disapproving look, she doesn't say anything. Maybe Ebb filled her in, or at least partially. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You look like shit, Snow," says Baz as I approach to take over the cash register.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't say it in a cruel or mocking tone. In fact, he almost sounded concerned. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not today, Baz," I growl anyway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't mean-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just don't. Today of all days, please just stop."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz looks at me with an expression I've never seen before. Sympathy. I don't know how to feel about it. It's an improvement from the cold glares he normally directs at me, but I also don't want to be treated like a wounded animal.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe you should go and stack the shelves," he says softly. "Wouldn't want you scaring off customers." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His joke lacks all of its usual bite, and a part of me wants to scream at him, just to get a sense of normality back. I just don't have the energy to fight him, though, so I do as he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dad always told me, "don't you cry when you're down", but Mum, there's a tear every time that I blink.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't know when I slumped against the shelves, I don't know how long I've been crying my heart out, but I do know that I'm so overcome with grief that I don't hear Baz approach.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or notice that I've been singing this whole time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Oh, I'm in pieces, it's tearing me up, but I know / a heart that's broke is a heart that's been loved-"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon!" Baz firmly grabs me by the shoulders and forces me to face him. He looks so worried it almost frightens me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My eyes feel raw and itchy from tears, but not even that can distract me from how embarrassed I feel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How long have my powers been acting up, and why have I only just noticed it? This is a nightmare, I should have stayed home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's ok Simon, just breathe," I hear Baz saying.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I try to obey, but my throat feels so tight that breathing feels near impossible. There's an empty feeling deep in my gut and it's demanding all of my attention. Every bit of me aches.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't. It- it hurts," I gasp, desperately fighting to get a hold of myself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes you can. It's ok. Breathe."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz tries to guide me through some breathing exercises, and eventually, I start to calm down. Now, though, I feel physically and emotionally exhausted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I end up leaning on Baz's shoulder and falling asleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So I'll sing Hallelujah, you were an angel in the same of my mum.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When I fell down you'd be there holding me up, spread your wings as you go,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And when God takes you back he'll say, "Hallelujah, you're home!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm not surprised when I wake up in the break room. However, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>surprised to see Baz hovering over me, still looking worried. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How are you feeling, Snow?" He asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't answer his question. Instead, I ask my own, "why aren't you working?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I have been. Ebb told me to check on you periodically, though. She's got Trixie covering your shift."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sit up. My head feels too heavy for my body and my eyes burn. A groan escapes my lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you want to talk about it?" Baz asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shouldn't you be getting back to work?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He comes to sit down next to me. I don't protest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's been a slow day. They'll manage without me for a few minutes." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I know that if anyone else can empathise with how I'm feeling today, it's Baz, but I really don't feel like talking about it. This patience he's treating me with, though, that's something new, and warmth blooms in my chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think my powers have gone all wonky," I confess with a watery smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz laughs. Not his usual mocking laugh, but a real laugh. It's nice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd worked out as much for myself already, Snow. Not even you are daft enough to sing at the top of your lungs whilst crying your eyes out."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I cringe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, people are going to think I'm mental.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I voice as much to Baz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I must have looked proper mental," I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz considers his response for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't think you looked mental. You looked lost, and like you were in pain. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're grieving, Snow," he says, cautiously laying his hand over mine. When I don't move it, he gives me a sad little smile. "Supermarket Flowers, wasn't it? When did your mum-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't even like Ed Sheeran," I groan, cutting him off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It appears that these powers of yours don't care about your music preferences, then," he jokes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh too. He's being so nice to me, and it's making me feel so fuzzy, and warm. My heart is beating like it's trying to burst out my chest and hand itself over to him. I think I'd let it, if I knew he felt the same.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something in me starts to swell, and at first I think it's just my growing affections towards Baz. Then music that only I can hear meets my ears, and I realise what's happening. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh no…" I start to panic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What is it?" Baz asks, seeing my face drop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Baz, whatever I'm about to do, please promise me you'll ignore it," I beg, trying to fight back the growing urge to sing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't understand-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it's too late. I'm singing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Wise men say / Only fools rush in / But I can't help falling in love with you."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shit. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I'm singing about my feelings for Baz. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To </span>
  </em>
  <span>Baz. How mortifying. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh, Snow?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Would it be a sin / If I can't help falling in love with you?"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz's eyes are blown as wide as saucers. I don't blame him; I'd be shocked, too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he doesn't know that I'm singing about him?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Darling, so it goes / Some things are meant to be." </span>
  </em>
  <span>Like I'm being strung along by some invisible force, I take both of Baz's hands in my own, looking deep into his lovely grey eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Take my hand / Take my whole life, too / For I can't help falling in love with you."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He definitely knows I'm singing about him. Fuck my life. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon," he whispers. It sends a shiver down my spine. "Do you mean all of that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I tear my hands out of his and stand up quickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't feel very well," I announce, a little too loudly. "You said Trixie is covering my shift, right? In that case, I'll just go tell Ebb that I'd like to take the rest of the day off. See ya."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I hear him shout after me, "Snow, wait!" It's too late, though. I've already stormed out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Could this day get any worse?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fluffed the pillows, made the bed, stacked the chairs up. Folded your nightgowns neatly in a case.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ebb was more than happy to let me go home early. She told me that I could take all the time I needed to grieve.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At this point, I don't even know what's the most pressing thing on my mind. My dead mother, or the fact that I just confessed my apparently undying love to Baz, who will probably never return the feelings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I end up taking another shower, just for something to do, before crawling back into bed and taking a nap.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm woken up by a knocking at my door. It takes me a few attempts to get up, but when I do, I frown slightly. I rarely get visitors when Penny isn't here, so who could that be?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The answer is: Shepard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, dude," he says when I open the door. "Penny heard you came home early and got worried. She sent me over here to check on you. How are you doing?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Part of me wants to slam the door in his face. The other part of me wants the company. I invite him in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Honestly? Not great. Today hasn't been the best one of my life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gives me a sympathetic look and heads for the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, you just get nice and comfy. I'll make tea and maybe you can tell me about it, if you want."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod, before yawning widely. "Alright, Shep."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While Shepard occupies himself in the kitchen, I throw myself down on the sofa with the TV remote, flicking idly through mindless daytime telly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He comes back with our mugs, setting them down on the coffee table and getting comfortable next to me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penelope told me about your mom," he says. "I'm really sorry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I choke back a few tears, and take a long swig of tea to stall myself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, well, it's…" I don't really know what to say. "I miss her." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sure you do," replies Shepard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't pursue the conversation further, which I'm thankful for. I decide talking to Shep about Baz can't hurt though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Could I talk to you about something else?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course, my dude. Shoot."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So I end up telling him everything, starting with how I got struck by lightning and seemingly wound up with superpowers. He gets excited about this, and we spend more than 20 minutes talking about that alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I tell him that these powers were how I learned about Micah's affair, and how I knew about Shepard's crush on Penny. He doesn't get mad like I expected him to, but I have to interfere before he starts asking questions again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Anyway," I say, interrupting Shep. "I don't know why, but today my powers seem to be working in reverse, and it led to… a very awkward situation," I finish.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard opens and closes his mouth several times, clearly desperate to say something, but unsure exactly how to say it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe they're backwards because you're grieving," he eventually says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you mean?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, you've been helping others all this time when they've been in need, and now that you yourself are in need, your powers are trying to help </span>
  <em>
    <span>you," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he explains.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What happened earlier certainly wasn't helpful," I scoff. "More like incredibly embarrassing."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What happened?" Shepard asks, eyebrow raised curiously. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I groan. "I… kinda sang a love song to Baz."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Baz? The posh dude who came on the picnic with us?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The very same " I sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard considers that for a few moments.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You could certainly do worse," he says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But… Shepard, I didn't even know I </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked </span>
  </em>
  <span>boys until a few days ago. Baz is my coworker, and he probably won't ever feel the same way. This is such a mess."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's ok, Simon. You don't need a label. It took me a really long time to figure out that I was bisexual, but even if you never figure it out, that's fine," says Shepard. "Just love you who wanna love, bro. And as for whether or not Baz likes you back, I don't think you need worry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you mean?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Remember when you were showing off by shoving those scones in your mouth?" I nod. "Did you see the way he looked at you? I was sure he was going to choke on his own tongue. He was totally undressing you with his eyes."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You think?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll never know if you don't talk to him."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He has a point, but the idea of confronting Baz after today makes my gut churn. I wonder how long I can fake an illness before Penny forces me to go back to work?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope that I see the world as you did, 'cause I know a life with love is a life that's been lived. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Penny gets home, Shepard has left and I have fallen asleep again on the sofa. She wakes me up with a gentle nudge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Si. How are you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I feel like shit, Pen," I admit. "I made a fool out of myself today at work."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I tell her about Baz, and when I'm done, she pulls me into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, don't worry about it, Simon," she says. "Basilton can be a right pain in the arse, I know, but I don't think this is going to be one of those times."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shepard said something similar, but how can you be so sure?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just, trust me. Penny knows best," she replies with a slight laugh. "Did you know he broke it off with Agatha?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sit a bit more upright to stare at her. "No?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't give up so easily, Simon," she says, then, changing the subject, "do you want to go and lay some flowers on her grave?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A lump rises in my throat for the thousandth time today.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I think I will," I choke out. "I think I'd like to do it on my own this year, though. Some alone time to think and grieve by myself might help."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny smiles. "Alright."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a cup of tea and some biscuits, I head out by myself to pick up some flowers. I don't have a great deal of money, so I pick up the cheapest I can find from Tesco. They're still beautiful, but I can't help thinking she deserves better.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I throw them down on the passenger seat, I realise the irony. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ha, supermarket flowers. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So I'll sing Hallelujah, you were an angel in the shape of my mum.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When I fell down you'd be there holding me up, spread your wings as you go</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And when God takes you back he'll say,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Hallelujah, you're home!" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Mum, I'm sorry they're so cheap. Just a bit skint right now," I chuckle sadly, laying her flowers down. "A lot has happened in the last year. Dad hasn't changed, but I'm doing just fine without him. Still living with Penny, too. But other than that, my life has been pretty much turned upside down in the space of a few weeks."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I look around to make sure that I'm completely alone before I continue speaking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Got struck by lightning. Don't worry, I'm completely fine. Mostly. Except now I hear people singing all their inner thoughts and feelings to me all day every day. I used to find it annoying, but I'm getting kinda used to it now. Helping people with their problems is pretty rewarding. I know you would have done the same. These powers have been a bit off today though, and I think it might be because of you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sigh, letting a few tears slip down my nose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I hope it's true, what they say. That you're watching over me, guiding me and protecting me from beyond the grave," I continue shakily. "I really wish you were still here. There's so much I want to tell you, talk to you about."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Holding back tears is starting to make my throat ache, but I keep fighting it anyway, because there's so much more I need to say before I break down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You see, Mum, there's this boy… his name is Baz. We work together, but we were roommates at uni. I used to think I hated him, but recently I have discovered that I may not be as straight as I first thought."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sniffle, and then laugh sadly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I kinda confessed that I'm in love with him today, Mummy. Can you blame me? He's gorgeous, and fit, and so bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" I take a steadying breath. "How would you have felt, if I had told you this before you'd died? Would you be ok with me liking boys? I know Dad wouldn't, and I hope to God I never have to tell him."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A footstep behind me makes me jump with fright. I stand up quickly, and see Baz's stormy grey eyes meeting my own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Snow-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Baz! What the hell are you doing here?! Are you stalking me?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I- my mother is buried here, too," he says, pointing to a gravestone a few rows back. "I thought I'd come visit her, after seeing the way your heart was breaking over your mum today."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," I say, because it's all I can manage. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How much did he hear? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How long ago was it?" He asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I find that I can't keep it to myself anymore.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Three years ago today. Brain tumour," I tell him, bottom lip quivering. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, Simon, I'm so sorry," he replies, and I can tell he means it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What about you?" I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My mum? She was murdered when I was five," he tells me. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I feel my jaw drop open in shock. Baz never talks about his mum, but I knew she had died when he was young. I had assumed it had been under similar circumstances as my own mother. Never did I imagine she'd been murdered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I- oh, my God, Baz, that's horrible! I'm so-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright, Snow. You don't need to say that you're sorry. I've come to terms with it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How- what happened?" I ask, hoping I haven't overstepped the line.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"She was attacked by some thug on her way home from work. A mugger, or something, the details are a little fuzzy," he says, and I'm surprised by how composed he remains. "She refused to cooperate, so he stabbed her. My mum died before I got the chance to say goodbye." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fragile wall I built when Baz interrupted me crumbles, and all of my emotions come flooding back in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>All </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them. I feel my pulse race from just being in close proximity to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't need to say anything. We just pull each other close, offering the other comfort. He warms up in my embrace, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thrilled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We don't have to talk about what happened at work," he whispers right next to my ear. "But you seem like you could use a friend right now."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I think I do," I sob into his shoulder. "I miss her so much, Baz."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The hurt never really goes away, but it gets easier. I promise."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few more minutes of hugging and crying, we finally break apart. My stomach rumbles, and I realise I've not eaten much all day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hungry, Snow?" Baz asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I could eat," I reply.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Where do you want to go? I'll pay," he offers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's no-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright, I have money to burn. What would you like to eat?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I hesitate, before saying, "I could kill for a curry, if I'm being honest."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz smiles. "Sounds good. Come on, then."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We leave the graveyard with my arm looped through his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hallelujah </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You were an angel in the shape of my mum.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You got to see the person I have become, spread your wings </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And I know that when God took you back, he said, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Hallelujah, you're home!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have been dying to write this chapter for ages. I originally was going to use the same song from the show that Zoey sung to Max, but then I listened to the one I chose and decided I was gonna make this chapter extra mushy. You're welcome XD</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran <br/>- Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Push The Button</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon gets a dog (and second hand embarrassment).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Was anyone going to tell me that Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist got a season two, or was I supposed to find that out myself while I was planning the last few chapters of this fic? XD <br/>Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, because it cost me my sanity. It was supposed to just be a self indulgent excuse to give Simon a dog, and it turned crack-ish somewhere along the way.</p>
<p>Cw: conversations of a sexual nature</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Baz texts me a lot the next day, making sure I'm doing alright. If he wanted me to forget my feelings for him, he certainly isn't going the right way about it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(He even walked me home after we went to get curry. I think I swooned.) </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My phone chimes. I smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Let me guess, is that Basil?" Penny asks with a smirk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What? Oh, yeah." I can't stop grinning. Jesus.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wow, you really are smitten, aren't you, Simon?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I am. As much as I wish I wasn't, that I could just turn it off so as not to ruin the budding friendship I seem to have started with Baz, I truly have fallen for him. It's a nightmare, honestly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I groan. "He probably doesn't feel the same, though."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He hasn't told you to get lost yet though, has he?" Penny counters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Probably because he feels sorry for me," I reply. "He'll most likely go back to hating me once I don't need his shoulder to cry on anymore." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't be so dramatic. You bonded. Maybe try having a little more faith in him," Penny scolds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My phone chimes again. I read the message, and my heart soars.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He wants to meet up," I tell Penny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Really? What exactly does the text say?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It says, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I was thinking I could take you out today. It'll help to get out of the house for a bit if you're still feeling so low. Father needs me to drop something off at my cousin Dev's first, but if you want to, I'll take you wherever you want to go afterwards," </span>
  </em>
  <span>I read aloud. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny looks smug. "Sounds like a date to me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It sounds like a mate trying to help another mate who is grieving," I reply. "It's just pity, Pen. He doesn't like me like that."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As much as I hate saying it out loud, I know it has to be true. He sang that song about Lamb, after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Besides," I continue, "wouldn't want to leave you here all alone, would I?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny sighs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Whatever, Simon. Go or don't, I'm not your keeper. But I assure you, I'll be fine on my own. I could even clean the flat without you getting under my feet."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I look back down at my phone. I really want to see him today, but I also don't want to get my heart broken.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Si, it's Baz," says Penny, as if hearing my thoughts. "I know you want to think he's a villain, but he's really not. I think you should go."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So, I do go out with Baz later that day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls up outside in the fanciest car I've ever seen. I can't help ogle and drool slightly. Baz smirks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's my father's. Put your tongue away, Snow, you're not a dog," he jokes. "Speaking of dogs, Dev's retriever had puppies. I was thinking you might like to come with and see them. Might cheer you up. If not, I can just nip in and out again, then we can get lunch or something."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I manage to drag my eyes away from the car up to Baz. Unfortunately, this sight is even more divine, and I may still be drooling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh…" </span>
  <em>
    <span>crap, I didn't hear what he said. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Dogs, Snow. Want to come and meet Dev's?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh. Yeah. I love dogs." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz laughs lightly. I must look like a right gormless moron. My face is burning, and I hope that it's purely from embarrassment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright, then. Get in the car. I'll let Dev know we're coming." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. Cool." </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, what is wrong with me?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I stand there for a few more seconds before I remember he invited me to get into the car. When the passenger door slams shut after me, I let out a groan. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz climbs into the driver's side a few moments later, smiling at me while he fastens his belt. My mouth goes dry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of all the things I never expected to be hot, driving would be up there. But Baz's long fingers on the steering wheel </span>
  <em>
    <span>does things </span>
  </em>
  <span>to me. I'm trying so hard not to stare, but it's impossible. He's stunning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At some point, he turns the radio on (probably because things were getting just a bit awkward). He sings along quietly to the song that's playing. I thought that maybe my powers exaggerated the quality of people's singing voices, but apparently Baz is just good at it. Another thing that makes him perfect.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How did you sleep last night, Snow?" Baz asks, finally breaking the silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I shrug. In truth, my night involved a lot of crying and fantasizing about running my hands through Baz's hair, and kissing his lips. I obviously won't tell him that, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You do look a bit better today. Not as pale," he comments, casting his grey eyes over to me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penny looks after me," I joke, but it isn't really a lie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We talk some more about this and that. Before long, we're pulling up outside of Dev's house.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The whole family must be loaded, because I could only dream of owning a house this nice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's big, and it looks old, but has clearly been remodelled at some point to give it a more modern feel. The front garden is huge, beautiful flowers growing in the flower beds. We trek up the long gravel driveway to the door and Baz rings the doorbell.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I hear dogs barking on the other side, and a few moments later, a very disgruntled man opens the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck sake, Baz. I knew you were coming, I wouldn't have minded you just walking in. They've been manic all morning, I only just got them to settle down," he complains, stepping aside to let us in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I have no doubt in my mind that Dev is Baz's cousin. They look almost the spit of each other, except Baz has longer hair, sharper features, and darker skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While I'm listing the similarities and differences in their appearance in my head, I forget to watch where I'm going, and that's how I'm taken off guard by a ball of flying golden fur that tackles me to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The dog sniffs at me curiously, and I laugh because it tickles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Goldie, down!" Dev shouts, grabbing the dog's collar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I wipe Goldie's slobber off my face and accept Baz's hand to pull me up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry about her, mate," Dev apologises. "She gets excited to meet strangers. Dev Grimm." He holds his hand out to me. I take it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon Salisbury," I reply. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>coworker, huh?" Dev smirks at Baz, and I swear his cheeks redden slightly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can you try and be less insufferable today? Simon's had a rough week, he doesn't need to put up with your bullshit, too," says Baz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dev holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm just joking. I'll behave." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He leads us through to the kitchen, where Baz puts a gift bag up on the counter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Daphne insisted on getting you something as a thanks for babysitting the other night," he explains. "So there you go. Don't say we don't get you anything."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dev pulls the bottle of champagne out of the bag. By the way he admires it, it must be expensive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, Baz, you do spoil me," he teases. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz is about to make what I'm sure will be a sarcastic comment when another man walks into the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His brown eyes go slightly wide when he sees me and Baz, and I don't blame him. I would too if I'd been caught walking around half naked when we had guests.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(Well, he's mostly covered up. A baggy, oversized t-shirt hangs from his small frame, and you can only just see the bottom of his boxers.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I look at Baz, who looks at Dev, who is looking appreciatively at the man who just walked in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nice of you to join the land of the living at nearly half twelve in the afternoon, darling," says Dev. "I take it you enjoyed your lie-in?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man rolls his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't know we'd be having guests," he says, looking apologetically at us. "Otherwise I would have gotten dressed. I'm Niall, by the way, Dev's boyfriend." I shake his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nice to meet you," Niall says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Look, babe, champagne," says Dev, holding up the bottle. Then he frowns. "Did you sleep in my shirt?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, and don't think I'll apologise for stealing it," Niall replies. "Have you seen the puppies, Simon?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh, no?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"They're in the conservatory," Dev says. "They've been driving me mad all morning. Take him to see them, Niall."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I feel awkward as I follow Niall to the conservatory, but it's better than standing around in the kitchen listening to Baz and Dev talk about family stuff, so I go with no protest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hello, little terrors," Niall says, opening the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Three energetic golden retriever puppies come charging at us, but at least this time I don't get knocked off my feet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Aw, hello, cuties," I coo, crouching down to give them a fuss. I really do love dogs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All three puppies immediately start jumping on me, and unlike Dev, who stepped in to help me before, Niall stands there and laughs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One of them climbs into my lap and starts trying to lick my ear. Niall leans over me to scratch its head affectionately. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This is Pepper," he tells me. "She was the only girl in a litter of five. We're keeping her."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You haven't found them all homes yet?" I ask, letting Pepper sniff my hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Unfortunately not. Turns out guilt doesn't work on everyone in the family, but we managed to persuade my cousin into adopting the other two boys."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I play with the puppies a bit, not really knowing what to say now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, I come up with, "so, how long have you and Dev been together?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Long enough," Niall replies with a chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then he sighs. There's a longing look in his eyes that I can't work out. I've also just noticed a ring of blue around his pupils, and I can't help thinking how boring my eyes are in comparison.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We sit in silence for a little while. I continue to play with the puppies, and one of the boys takes a very quick liking to me. Before I know it, I have been charmed by the puppy eyes and soft golden fur.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz and Dev join us, and I laugh when one of the other pups rushes up to Baz, begging for attention. He gently nudges him away with his foot, and I frown.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't believe Baz Pitch hates puppies," I scold jokingly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz looks affronted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate </span>
  </em>
  <span>puppies, but these trousers probably cost more than your entire wardrobe, thank you very much. I will not see them ruined by a tiny dog."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I remember when you let Goldie chew on a pair of your socks when she was a puppy," says Dev with a small frown. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"They were a Christmas present from Fiona, and they were hideous. I let the dog chew on them so I didn't have to tell her I hated them," Baz says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Poor Goldie," says Niall. "She must have had a terrible breath after eating your stinky socks."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The three of them banter back and forth for a bit while I end up making a possibly stupid, impulsive decision. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Dev, are you selling them?" I ask. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm? The puppies? Nah, not selling 'em, but we're giving them away free to a good home. Can't get rid of them even when they're </span>
  <em>
    <span>free," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he complains.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz makes eye contact with me, and I can tell he's figured out what I'm thinking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon, no, you cannot adopt a dog. You're at work too often, when will you have time for it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But, puppy," I say, holding up the little dog to Baz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why won't you let him have a dog?" Niall asks. "He doesn't live with you, it's not like it'll affect </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. You can have him if you want him, Simon. Don't listen to Baz," Dev says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Will you two stop encouraging him?" Baz argues.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How about no? Do you understand how hard it is to look after four dogs? I'd like to be able to make breakfast in the morning without tripping over one of the little monsters," Dev replies. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My mum used to have a dog when I was little," I say. I can't help getting a little choked up at the mention of her. "A border collie called Sasha. She was the best dog a kid could ask for."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A short silence settles over us. Eventually, Baz says, "alright, you manipulative swine. I won't stop you from getting the bloody dog. But don't expect me to save you from Bunce's wrath."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I grin at him, and he offers a small smile of his own in return. There's already a list of names for the puppy in my head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm about to thank Dev for letting me have one of his dogs when I notice Niall is staring longingly at him again. Even if I could have deciphered what that look meant, I wouldn't need to, because music starts playing in my ears, and I know I'm about to find out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'm busy throwing hints that he keeps missing." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, Christ," I mutter under my breath. I know this song. This is going to get weird.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Don't have to think about it, I wanna kiss / And everything around it, but he's too distant." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no. Please, no. I lay back on the floor, and the three excitable puppies rush in to investigate my face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The puppies can hide my blushing face and hopefully suffocate me to death before I have to listen to the end of this song. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Death by puppies is an adorable way to go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I wanna feel his body, I can't resist it." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I've literally just met these people, why do I now have to listen to one of them singing about how disappointing their sex life is? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No matter how much I wish it will end, Niall keeps singing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I was taken by the early conversation piece / And I really like the way that he respects me."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I desperately try to make eye contact with Baz, but he seems too preoccupied with teasing Dev. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Help me, you bastard, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I've been waiting patiently for him to come and get it / I wonder if he knows that he can say it and I'm with it." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Why do I not remember how sexual this song is? My face is on fire. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I knew I had my mind made up from the very beginning / Catch this opportunity so you and me could feel it." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I didn't sign up to be someone's sex therapist today. The universe must really hate me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"If you're ready for me, boy / You'd better push the button and let me know / Before I get the wrong idea and go / You're gonna miss the freak that I control." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Snow, are you feeling ok? Your face is flushed as hell," Baz says, finally.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, so </span>
  </em>
  <span>now </span>
  <em>
    <span>you notice me, you prick? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you need to go outside? You look like you could use some fresh air."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All I can do is nod. Baz pulls me to my feet and drags me out of the conservatory doors.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's going on? Is this about your mum?" Baz looks genuinely concerned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I try to explain, but I keep stuttering. How do I tell him?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Take a deep breath, Simon," Baz says, stroking my arm soothingly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I do, and it helps.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok, so… how familiar are you with the song Push The Button?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um… enlighten me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sing him a few lines, and his face flushes, too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I heard Niall singing it to Dev," I explain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a moment for it to sink in, but when it does, Baz bursts out laughing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Baz! Help me! I can't confront your cousin about his… bedroom activities. I've only just met him!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a few attempts for Baz to control himself. I frown at him, one hand on my hip (a move Penny has used on me many times).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright, I'm calm," he says, still chuckling a little bit. "I'll deal with this, Snow. Don't worry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He marches back inside, puppies barking at his ankles, and handles the situation in a way that makes me regret telling him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Listen up, you two. I'm going to make this simple for everyone, because Simon has been through enough this week and he doesn't need to deal with this-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Please don't drag me into this," I beg, but Baz ignores me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"- what's going to happen is, me and Simon are going to leave, and you, Dev, are going to take your boyfriend back to bed and screw him. You should probably also talk about why your sex life is so stale, too, really. Does everyone understand?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I bury my face in my hands and groan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Niall and Dev are both as red as tomatoes. I wish Baz had been more subtle about this, but I can't say I would have done a better job myself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"W-w-what the fuck, Baz?!" Dev stutters. "There's nothing wrong with our sex life!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Actually," Niall mutters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them look at each other awkwardly. I'd like to be anywhere but here right now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can we please leave now?" I ask Baz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I think you should go," says Dev. "It seems me and my boyfriend have things to sort out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I collapse back into the passenger seat of Baz's car, I feel like I can breathe again. Baz isn't far behind me, and once we're both in the car, we can't help the laughing fit that follows.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, wow, you handled that </span>
  <em>
    <span>terribly-"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But did you see the looks on their faces? Priceless!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm going to be haunted by that for a while," I chuckle, rubbing the growing stitch in my side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"In all seriousness, I hope that I haven't just ruined their relationship," says Baz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think they'll be fine. If Dev is anything like you, he's stubborn enough to fight for his relationship," I assure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Probably," Baz agrees. "So… lunch?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Lunch sounds wonderful."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I realise that Simon forgot to take his dog, but don't worry, I'll fix it in the next chapter. Simon's pet policy probably wouldn't allow him to have a golden retriever in the flat, but shh, it's my fic and what I say goes XD. This was a pretty quick update for me, but please don't expect the next update to be as quick. I'm still brainstorming songs to use, so it might take a while.</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- Push The Button by Sugababes</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. It's All About You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon and the gang have a party</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I told you not to expect a quick update XD. I spent so long looking for a song, but you know they say, "you'll find it when you aren't looking?" Yeah, that happened. I was just listening to my music, and when this song played, the scene played out in my head. Also, fun fact: this is my favourite song. So, enjoy! Hope it was worth the wait (again, sorry).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In our rush to leave, I forgot to get Dev's number so that we could make arrangements for me to pick up the dog. I had to get Baz to give it to me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took a lot of convincing, as Baz didn't want dog hairs all over his nice car, but he eventually agreed to drive me to Dev's and back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a bit of awkwardness between us all, but whatever happened after we had left, Dev and Niall definitely seemed happier today. I guess Baz's bluntness had worked after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We didn't stay long, and soon we were back in the car with a restless puppy in my lap.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Try and keep him still, Snow. The car has only just recently been cleaned," Baz complains as he starts the engine. "What are you going to name him, anyway?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I thought about it for a while. It seems like a stupid name, but the reason behind it is why I picked it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucky," I reply, holding him closer to my chest to keep him still.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucky? How original," Baz teases.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Take the 'k' out and it spells Lucy," I explain. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't mean for my voice to sound so small when I say it, but I can't help it. I hadn't realised how much this was still affecting me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh. I'm sorry, Simon, I didn't mean to tease. That's lovely. I mean it," says Baz. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All I can manage is a smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the rest of the car drive home, Baz keeps looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I can't tell if he's checking up on me, or if he's just making sure that Lucky isn't shedding all over his car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon Snow Salisbury, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you do?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So, I may not have told Penny about the dog. That was probably a bad idea, but I was worried she'd try to talk me out of it or downright refuse to let me get one. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penny, please don't get mad," I start, but Penny doesn't let me finish.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you think you should have </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>me that you were bringing an animal into </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>flat?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't think you would let me," I admit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm, I wonder why that is," Penny says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I thought having something to take care of would help," I explain. "That having a puppy would distract me from my grief."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny instantly softens at that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Simon, I know it hurts, but you can't just replace your mother with a dog," she says patiently. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not. I just think that redirecting my grief into something more positive, like caring for an animal, is better than lying around all day feeling sorry for myself," I tell her. "Plus, having a dog to walk every day means I have to get out of the house more."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," Penny finally relents. "Just don't let it in my room. If I find any dog craps, I'll hold you responsible."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope Bunce named the group chat </span>
  </em>
  <b>Simon's Support Group</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope Bunce added Simon S. Salisbury </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope Bunce added T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope Bunce added Agatha Wellbelove </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope Bunce added Shepard from Omaha</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>penny why? I don't need this, I'm fine</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>wait shep why is your contact literally shepard from omaha?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Yes you do, Simon. You need human interaction. If you speak to me like I'm your dog again, I'll hide the biscuits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>you wouldn't </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Oh, but I would &gt;;)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>Just to make sure everyone knows it's me :)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>don't you think there might be other shepards in omaha?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>Imposters</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>Bunce, I would love for you to elaborate on "if you to speak to me like your dog again". What do you mean by that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Simon has been spending more time with Lucky than with me. You know how some people have a voice they use for their pets?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>Yes?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Well, the other day Simon asked me in his pet voice, "would you be a good girl and bring me my phone?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>It was the worst day of my life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>I'm not sure whether to be amused or traumatised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>ffs penelope </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>A: </b>
  <span>Why have I been added to this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Because you're a part of this dysfunctional family, too. Be quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>As entertaining as this all is, I have important things I need to be getting on with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Killjoy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Penny, why </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>you add Agatha to that group chat?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why not?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, don't you think it might be awkward after everything that happened between me and her, and Baz?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny rolls her eyes so hard, her whole body moves with them. Lucky, who was curled up by her feet, startles and scampers away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Really, Simon? How old are you? Agatha was your friend before she was your girlfriend. I think it's incredibly pathetic that you've been avoiding her."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's awkward," I repeat, meekly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Then maybe you should try and talk to her, and make things </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>awkward," says Penny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That's the end of the conversation, because of course, I know she's right. Agatha was my friend. I want to be her friend again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok. I will."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Simon's Support Group</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>I think we should have a party.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>a party? why?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Fun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>I'd love a party</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>but we can't have a party while I'm trying to house train lucky</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>it might frighten him</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>You could have it at mine</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>shepard stop encouraging her!!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>A: </b>
  <span>I have plans</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>But I haven't picked a date yet??</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Don't be boring, Agatha. I'm trying to get us to do more things together as friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>I think I'd rather watch paint dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>that's because you wouldn't know a good time if it slapped you in the face</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>Alright, you know what? Count me in, Bunce.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Really? Yes!!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>But make sure there's alcohol. Lots of alcohol. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>What do you take me for, Basil? There will definitely be alcohol. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>please come, too, Ags</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>please?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>A: </b>
  <span>… fine</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Whoop!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Does anyone know anyone else to invite?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>trixie and keris?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>Well, I could invite Dev and Niall, but the question is, do I want to?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Yes. The more the merrier!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>it's the least that I could do to thank them again for letting me have lucky</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>Alright. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope Bunce added Trixie the Pixie to the group chat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Penelope Bunce added Keris Albright to the group chat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Baz, add your cousin or whatever so I can ask him if he wants to come to the party.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Please?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>If I have to… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch added Dev Grimm to the chat</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch added Niall to the group chat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>Happy, Bunce?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Yes, thank you! Xx</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Hey, guys, I'm planning a party and was wondering if you'd like to come?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Simon wants to thank you boys for that dog properly, so he'd definitely appreciate it if you guys came.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>T: </b>
  <span>you had me at party!! i'm in!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>trixie why do you have a weird contact name too?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>T: </b>
  <span>why not</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>Weird contact gang (as deemed by Simon, at least)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>Hi, I'm Shepard. The party will be at my place</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>T: </b>
  <span>sweet</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>T: </b>
  <span>i'll ask keris when she gets home. she's at work rn</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Ok! Xx</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Baz's cousin? Are you here?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>D: </b>
  <span>Hi?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>Hey, we're throwing a party at my house, wanna come?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>D: </b>
  <span>Um</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>D: </b>
  <span>Sure? Why not</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>D: </b>
  <span>You reminded me of Korg just now, from Thor: Ragnarok. You know, the bit where he's like, "we're about to jump on that ginormous spaceship, wanna come?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>AJHSJDBRBXBSBSZCGEB</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>YOU'RE A MARVEL FAN?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>D:</b>
  <span> Yeah! I love Marvel. Me and Niall tried to get Baz to watch them with us, but apparently the stick up his arse means he can't have any fun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sh: </b>
  <span>*sniff* I have found my people…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>P: </b>
  <span>Oh no..</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>B: </b>
  <span>Simon, can I talk to you?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>S: </b>
  <span>uh, yeah?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don't expect my phone to ring, and it makes me jump out of my skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hello?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Simon," says Baz on the other end of the line.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even though he's been calling me Simon much more often recently, it still sends a shiver down my spine. It sounds so good coming out of his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hi. What- what's up?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I chew my bottom lip nervously. Baz doesn't usually call me. I'm not sure what to expect. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I was just wondering, you know, if you aren't busy, maybe you…" Baz trails off, and I hear him take a deep, calming breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My heart flutters in my chest. Is he…?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Would you… um, I wanted to ask-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is my awkwardness contagious?" I ask with a laugh. "You aren't normally this bad with words."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up, Snow," he teases, and I can hear his smile in his voice. "I wanted to ask if you'd like to… go out with me some time?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can't help it; I throw my phone into the sofa and blush furiously into a pillow. I'm so overcome with joy, I nearly forget about our phone call.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Snow?" I hear him calling my name faintly through the receiver. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I clear my throat and pick up my phone again. "Are you… do you mean like a date?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz hesitates for a moment. "Of course." He sounds anxious. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Does this mean you're interested in me?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I realise it's a stupid question, but my heart and mind are racing right now, so I don't know if I could think an intelligent thought if I tried.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz laughs lightly. He has such a nice laugh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you even need to ask?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I'm so glad that I'm alone right now. If Penny saw the way I'm grinning at all of this, she would never let me hear the end of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I suppose not."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We set a date for the party, and it's only two days after the best phone call I've ever had in my life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shepard not to go overboard," Penny grumbles as we enter his kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On the table is a banquet fit for a king, if said king was a fiend for cocktail sausages and Doritos, and more alcohol than I've ever seen in my life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This is Shepard we're talking about. He never does anything small," I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penny just huffs and starts picking at the snacks. We got here early to help Shep with the food, but most of it was already spread out when we arrived. He certainly seems very excited to have a house full of guests, which isn't something I could ever relate to, honestly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I try to help Penny and Shep with the rest of the food, even offer to tidy up a bit, but Penny just complains that I'm getting under her feet, so I just stand back and stay out of the way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even after more people start to arrive, I continue to hover around the edges of the room, just observing and listening rather than getting involved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I end up overhearing a bit of the conversation Shep has struck up with Dev and Niall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, if you could be any one of the Avengers, who would you want to be?" He asks them, a little breathlessly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's excited to have new friends to be nerdy with, I can tell, and it puts a smile on my face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dev launches into a ramble about how it would be cool to have Tony Stark's money, Bruce Banner's brains and Captain America's shield.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Niall simply says, "Thor."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ha!" Dev laughs loudly. "As if, short-arse. Do you know how tall Chris Hemsworth is?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know what? Fuck you," Niall replies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, you'd like to fuck me, wouldn't you?" Dev responds with a wink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shepard laughs awkwardly. Niall rolls his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not even that short," says Niall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Aw, babe, don't worry. I think it's cute that you're half imp," Dev says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"At least he made a comment about your height and not about your attractiveness," Shepard unhelpfully adds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you saying my boyfriend isn't fit?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I choose that moment to walk away. Shepard can dig himself out of that hole by himself; no way am I getting involved in that one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After going to the bathroom, I come back to rejoin the crowd, hearing Penelope yelling over the music, "Basil! Fashionably late, aren't we?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can't stop the corners of my mouth from turning up when I see him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fashionably </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be the operative word there, Penny. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's gone for a smart casual look, with a floral button up, sleeves cuffed up to his elbows. It's white, and has a pattern of greyscale roses with pops of red to offset the monochrome tones in the rest of the shirt. I feel a blush in my cheeks when I realise he's done the thing I like: fastened his buttons up halfway so that his chest remains exposed. Baz has paired the shirt with a nice, expensive-looking pair of black skinny jeans that somehow make him look even taller.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's breathtaking. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Snow," he greets nonchalantly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Baz," I reply, voice cracking slightly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Pick your jaw up, I know I look fabulous," he jokes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My heart flutters when I wonder if he dressed like this for me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps that's why he's late.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I compose myself, putting on my best, most confident grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wanna come dance with me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz smirks back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Lead the way, Simon."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a while, the party starts to get too much for me, and I decide to escape to the kitchen. It's quiet in here now that everyone has had their fill of food. Perfect for me to just have a moment alone with my thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I pick at the leftovers before deciding I'm properly hungry, grabbing myself a spoon from Shepard's cutlery drawer and tucking into the untouched trifle he bought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Someone clears their throat behind me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Aren't you going to share that, Snow?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I smirk around a mouthful of custard and cream. Baz gets himself a spoon as well and steps up next to me. I push the bowl between us.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We devour the trifle, fighting over the last spoonful (I win, of course).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh, Snow, you've got a bit of-" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Baz wipes cream off my top lip with his thumb, and my face burns. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you alright?" He adds, either not noticing my blush or choosing not to comment. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I shrug. It drives him mad when I shrug, but he doesn't seem to be bothered right now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's just… all this… it's a lot," I confess.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He nods. I don't know if he understands what I even mean. I'm thankful he isn't pushing me either way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It just feels kinda wrong, you know?" I say. "She would have had years of parties and fun left ahead of her if it weren't for, you know. If I think about it too hard, I start to feel selfish. Is that stupid? I mean, it's been </span>
  <em>
    <span>three years."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's no timescale for grief, Simon, and it's different for everyone. Also, let's not forget she was your </span>
  <em>
    <span>mum,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you're allowed to take your time," says Baz. "But she would also want you to keep living </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I take a step towards him, and I don't even need to ask. He takes me wordlessly into his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's all about you / It's all about you, baby."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I have to resist the urge to laugh. Baz is singing to me, and for a moment, I almost forget why I'm sad. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yesterday, you asked me something I thought you knew."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Technically, it was two days ago, but I will let it slide. This is so uncharacteristically sweet for Baz, and I'm loving it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"So I told you with a smile, 'it's all about you'."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I pull back just enough to throw my arms around his shoulders; his own come to rest around my waist. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"And I would answer all your wishes / If you asked me to / But if you deny me one of your kisses / Don't know what I'd do."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a moment of pure elation, I realise that Baz is singing this from the heart. It makes mine swell. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"So hold me close and say three words, like I wish you'd do."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I make a mental note of the lyric changes for a later date.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Dancing on the kitchen tiles / It's all about you." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We're swaying. I don't even remember when we started doing it, or when I started smiling so broadly. Baz brings his arm up above our heads for me to twirl. I do. Dancing on the kitchen tiles, just like the song says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"So hold me close and say three words, like I wish you'd do / Dancing on the kitchen tiles / Yes, you make my life worthwhile / So I told you with a smile / It's all about you."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the last note of Baz's song rings out, our dancing comes to a halt. For just a second, I start to lean in, and so does Baz. Our noses touch. I think we're going to kiss, and then…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why are you two in here being loners? Come on, Si, I planned this party for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>after all!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then Penelope Bunce bursts in like a herd of elephants and drags me away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We leave Baz in the kitchen, looking lost.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'll make it up to you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I promise.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just realised I forgot to give Niall a surname, whoops. Make it up yourselves XD. Also, not sure why I chose Marvel as the thing the boys bonded over, as I have only seen most of the films just once (I know nothing, is what I'm saying. Leave me alone XD). Once again, don't expect a quick update, as I have a fairly busy schedule for the next month, and probably won't have much time to write.</p>
<p>Songs:<br/>- It's All About You by McFly</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Songs:<br/>- Somebody To Love by Queen<br/>- Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper <br/>- Ex's and Oh's by Elle King</p></blockquote></div></div>
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